


Butterfly Effect

by BlueDot77



Series: Butterfly Effect Saga [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempted Murder, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Chloe Can't Die, Drama, Drugs, Epilepsy, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Gun Violence, Jefferson is a creep, Kate Marsh Protection Squad, Kidnapping, Max Is Not Helpful, Mental Health Issues, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Psychological Drama, Slow Burn, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Time Travel, Twins, Weirdness, enter at your own risk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 03:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 69,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueDot77/pseuds/BlueDot77
Summary: I'm Rio Verde and I'm not really known for having the best timing in the world. It would seem that I'm always in the wrong place at the wrong time. On my first day as a transfer to Blackwell Academy, I met Mark Jefferson, made a couple friends, and I saw a girl reverse time. Now I'm having visions, the weather is insane, and I have one big question: Why don't her powers work on me?





	1. The New Girl

Blackwell Academy- home of one of the finest photography programs in the region. The old brick building loomed in front of me and I wondered if I made the right choice in transferring here. My sister had been the one that took a fancy towards this school. I'd come here for its vastly underrated Creative Writing program and because my sister and I got offered enough scholarships to help pay for our schooling.

 Lucky us.

"Rio, you almost forgot your camera," my sister trotted up next to me with my overpriced Nikon D3200 in hand and her hipster chic pastel pink Polaroid hanging from her neck. I took the camera and hung it from around my neck. I'd almost forgotten the condition of one of my more lucrative scholarships- that I participate in the school's photography program. I'd been reluctant at first. I absolutely _loathed_ the idea of sitting through boring lectures about contrast and dead photographers. That scholarship was the only way our parents were able to afford to send us here. "Come on, our first class is together!"

Pulled from my thoughts, I followed my sister up the steps and through the glass doors of the school. The inside of the building smelled like a strange mixture of too much Pine Sol and fish. My stomach churned a little and my nose scrunched up at the smell. Dear God, does it always smell this horrid?

"Sorry about the smell. We had an incident with the aquarium in the science lab. I guess I used too much Potassium," a wiry boy walked up to us with an apologetic smile on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as his shaggy brown hair fell in the way of his eyes a bit.

"An incident?" my sister prompted.

"With an aquarium?" I added automatically.

"Wonderful," we chorused and I inwardly cringed. My sister and I had this weird thing where we sometimes seemed to operate on the same wavelength. We'd think and say the same things; finish one another's sentences and talk simultaneously. It kind of hurt my efforts to insist to people that we were, in fact, two separate people with completely separate brains. That's not to mention that when we speak at the same time our voices sync up and sound like something out of a creepy horror film.

"You must be the new girls," he beamed at us- completely ignoring our twin moment. He dropped his hand from his neck and offered it towards us. "I'm Warren."

"I'm Lex- short for Alexandria," my sister introduced herself first, extending her ivory hand and taking his. They shook hands and then Warren's attention drifted to me. I shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. I hate introductions. They're always so awkward and stagnant "This is my sister, Rio."

"Rio short for..?" Warren pondered, stretching out his hand towards me.

"Rio," I replied stiffly, taking his hand. His palm was smooth with very few callouses. I doubt Warren had done much physical labor recently if ever.

"I can dig it," Warren's grin grew until I thought his face might split in half. It was quite unnerving. I pulled my hand back from his.

"Can I take your picture?" Lex asked out of the blue. Her amber eyes- a much more colorful alternative to my slate grey ones- were focused on a girl a few feet away. The girl looked up from her phone and the sudden jerking motion of her head caused the white ear buds in her ears to fall out. She was the postcard for innocence. The scrawny girl had a beautifully angled face that reminded me of a vengeful angel in it's own right. Her eyes were a deep, oceanic blue. Her pale brown hair framed her face in a way that seemed too natural to be intentional and a lock of it was out of place but I didn't feel the urge to correct it.

"E-excuse me?" the girl's hands wrung the strap of her satchel nervously. Lex held up her camera pointedly and then gestured between it and the girl. "You want to take a picture? Of me?"

I could ask my sister a similar question. Normally, my sister preferred nature shots- pictures of animals and scenery. People very rarely caught her eye and her muses were normally whomever she was dating. I'd never seen a complete stranger strike inspiration in my sister. I knew that look in her eyes though- Lex had found a diamond. My eyes scanned the girl. She wore a plain pink shirt with the white silhouette of a doe on the front and a thin grey jacket.

"Um sure?" the girl assented to the photo. Lex squealed and jolted forward. Her hand wrapped around the small girl's wrist and she yanked her back outside- most likely to find a suitable tree with good lighting or something of that sort.

"Well that was odd," Warren commented. I spared the boy a glance and nodded absently. "I hope Max is okay."

"My sister isn't a serial killer. That job's reserved for me," I mentioned offhandedly as I moved past him and hung a right at the end of the hall. I decided to file away the girl's name for later as I caught sight of a strange man with a mop bucket shuffling into what I could only assume was the science lab. When I neared the end of the hall, I spotted an open door. Glancing inside, I noticed that the classroom was devoid of students. I inched in and saw photographs on the whiteboards at the front of the room. A soft hum fell over me and drowned out the overwhelming clatter of students in the hallways as I reached for one of the photos. It was of Arcadia Bay's lighthouse. I swear you could see that lighthouse from almost anywhere in the town. My fingertips touched the photograph and I could just barely make out faint whispers coming from the photo.

_That's it._

_The lighting is perfect here._

"Hello there," a deep voice broke me out of my trance and I tore my hand away from the photo. Whirling around, I spotted the source of the voice. A man had entered the room without me noticing. He had dark brown hair styled in a way that looked purposefully messy. It was longer and messier on the top and shorter on the sides. Through black and white glasses, his dark brown- almost black- eyes bore holes into me. "I could have sworn I'd just seen you outside with Miss Caulfield."

_"He has the same voice has the one from the photo_ ," I thought.

"That was my sister, Alexandria. I'm Rio Verde- the scholarship student," I introduced myself with a slight bow. When I raised my head, the man was giving me a scrutinizing gaze.

"You submitted the portfolio full of the abstract nature photos, yes?" he asked with a slight frown pulling at his lips.

"No. That was also my sister," I tried not to exhibit the annoyance I felt. "My portfolio did posses a couple of portraits that you may perceive as abstract."

"Ah, yes! I remember now!" his eyes lit up as he moved swiftly past me and towards the desk at front corner of the room. He yanked a drawer open and pulled out burgundy folder that had my name engraved in elegant silver across the front. "I wanted to ask you about where you acquired the inspiration for the skeletal woman photograph...here!"

His hand drew out the photograph with a flourish and I moved forward to scrutinize my work. I remembered taking this black and white photo and the hours of grueling editing that had gone into the image. It was a photo of myself sitting on a bed with my legs tucked beneath me With photoshop, I had managed to carve back my skin and shape it as if it were drawn taut over my skeleton. My arms crossed- both hands finding purchase on my shoulders- to cover my breasts. My long, ebony black hair had fallen back in a picturesque inky waterfall as I'd tilted my head back. Thanks to the high resolution of the photograph, I could even make out my dark eyelashes against my snowy white cheek bones. You could barely recognize me as the model in the photo.

"I especially like the use of shadows. They give the image more depth. The lighting alone must have taken quite some time to get just the way you wanted it," the man commented. "Not many photographers your age are able to pull off working with a nude model but you did it very tastefully."

"Well I wasn't about to show off my breasts to the world distastefully, sir," I responded with a sly smirk. He looked up at me as realization dawned on him.

"You modeled for this photo?" he asked, pointing down at the photo.

"Modeled, shot, and edited," I took an over dramatized bow, flourishing my hand as I did so. "It took a few shots to get down the perfect positioning for both the camera and myself. Lex helped with that. This photo was a tribute to her struggle with body image. She had a rough time a couple years back. It was the only time in our entire lives people could tell us apart from afar."

"You have real talent," he complimented me, pulling the photo away and scanning it over with his own eyes before tucking it back into its place in my portfolio. He seemed to take the tidbit of information about my sister in stride. When he looked back up at me, his eyes had darkened to an almost black color. He leaned close to me for a moment and I could feel his gaze piercing deep into my very being. "I would love to see you through my lens, Rio."

"You want me to model? For you?"I asked, shocked by his statement. Before he could answer, I heard the sound of students entering the classroom behind me.

"Hi Mr. Jefferson," a leggy girl with short blonde hair in a grey cashmere sweater and a pink skirt walked in. Mr. Jefferson? My eyes went back to the man who had now moved back behind his desk. I was supposed to have his class later today. He was the famous photographer that was the head of the photography program here.

"Hello Victoria. I didn't think you had class with me for another hour and a half?" Mr. Jefferson's voice seemed to have grown a sharp edge to it in response to the new arrival. _He must really hate this girl_. I looked back at her. Victoria scanned me up and down at sneered at me. I glanced down at my outfit. A pair of black skinny jeans with a chain hanging from the belt loop and pocket, a pair of ragged cherry red converse, and a loose black MCR shirt that had the words "I am not afraid to walk this world alone." blazoned across the front in white and red. I guess I could have dressed a little bit less like a punk but that didn't give Miss Snooty a free pass to judge me based off of my wardrobe.

"I just wanted to swing by and tell you good morning," Victoria sauntered across the room and her- probably overpriced- perfume made me choke as she brushed by me. "Also, I was wondering if you had gotten a chance to look at my photo."

"I will look at your photo when I look at everyone else's, Victoria," Mr. Jefferson responded in a tired tone. I took the opportunity to slip away and towards the door. I managed to sneak out undetected thanks to the cashmere leach. As soon as I broke out into the hallway, I spotted Lex barreling towards me. Her black hair- identical in length to my own- was flying behind her. She grabbed my arm without stopping as she ran past and I found myself being half dragged to our first class of the day.

* * *

Mr. Jefferson's class came a lot sooner than I had hoped. Lex had dropped me off at the door with a quick air kiss goodbye as she skipped off to her science class. She probably had one of Mr. Jefferson's other photography courses. A sense of unease draped over me. Over the years, Lex and I had always been shoved into the same classes for everything- it was the twin conundrum. Half the time teachers wouldn't even count one of us absent if they weren't there because the teacher didn't want to admit that they couldn't tell us apart.

Now that we were at Blackwell Academy it seemed that the conundrum may be coming to an end. I watched Lex duck into her classroom before finally turning on my heel and waltzing back into Mr. Jefferson's room. The teacher himself was perched on the edge of his desk like a hawk. I watched as his eyes darted from face to face in the room as if he were taking pictures of each student. Then his eyes landed on me. I wondered what kind of photos he was taking of me.

"You're Lex's sister, right?" I turned my attention away from Mr. Jefferson and saw the small girl from earlier standing next to me. She was hugging a beaten up journal to her chest and one of her headphones was dangling from her left ear. I wanted to ask what kind of music she listened to. "I'm Max."

"Rio," I nodded in greeting.

"Right. Um.. There's a desk next to mine in the back if you want," Max offered before taking her leave of me and heading towards the back of the room. She sat in the desk tucked away furthest n the back of the room in the middle. I eyed the desk next to her. Not many students had filed in but I could tell just from a short glance around the room that the desk next to hers would probably be the best option. Shouldering my backpack, I walked towards the empty black desk that was placed between Max and a shelf. A desktop computer was on the desk with someone's project pulled up. I minimized the project and dropped my bag next to the seat. I pulled out a blue notebook and a couple of my favorite pens and placed them on the desk as I slid into my seat.

A few minutes passed as I got settled and when I looked up there was girl taking a seat in the desk that faced mine. Her dirty blonde hair was tied up in an up do that allowed her bangs to still fall and frame her pale face. I'd never seen the girl before but she looked sickly pale. There were shadows and bags under her eyes.

"Hey," I greeted her as she set out her things. She had the look of "Church Girl" down to a tee. A pristine white button up with a dark grey sweater over it and a modest light grey skirt the came down to her knees. There was nothing spectacular about her at first glance. There did appear to be a dark cloud hanging over her. The girl looked over at me with hazel eyes.

"Oh. Hi," she waved meekly at me as she pulled out a pencil and began scribbling away on a piece of paper.

_"Okay so that didn't go very well_ ," I sighed as I flipped open my notebook.

The bell tolled and Jefferson moved forward to take over reign of the class. A few students that didn't belong to the class were sent away and then he took up position leaning against a desk in the center of the room.

"We meet again. I know you guys are just dying to get started but I wanted to introduce our new student, Miss Rio Verde," Mr. Jefferson gestured towards me and I felt the eyes of everyone in the classroom on me. Victoria's eyes seemed to burn into the side of my skull a bit more than any of the others. I waved to the class grudgingly. "Miss Verde is a very gifted photographer and has a bright future in the field."

I flinched at his words. Did he really have to paint such a huge target on my forehead?

"Rio? Sounds like a _boy_ _'s_ name." "She look like a total _flunk_." "Emo _freak_." "She probably doesn't even know how to-"

"Quiet down!" Mr. Jefferson ordered. I found myself glaring at the man.

_"Fucking asshole,"_ I thought as I diverted my attention to the notebook on my desk. Taking up a pen in hand, I began doodling absentmindedly. After a few minutes of doodling to the drone of Mr. Jefferson's voice, I heard a light thud. My head jolted up and I looked over to see Max completely zonked out. Concerned, I scooted my chair over and reached towards her. My fingers had barely brushed her skin when my vision went black and I heard the howling wind of a raging storm. Water peppered my cheeks as my vision cleared and I found myself standing on a strange dirt path. Trees were groaning in distress as strong winds pushed and pulled them in various directions.

Disoriented, I searched around me for some kind of hint as to where I was or what was going on. Hadn't I just been in class? I was just about to shake Max a moment ago.

_"Max,"_ her name breathed a sense of purpose into me as I started moving up the path. Further ahead, I spotted a small figure walking up towards the lighthouse.

"Max!" I cried out her name as I began running up the path. The harder I ran, the more the wind seemed to push back against me until I finally broke out of the woods and spotted her staring out at the storm in horror. Dear God, the storm was horrendous. It had to be the biggest tornado in history. Max didn't hear me approaching over the sounds of the tornado. A loud crunch met my ears and I looked up at the lighthouse to see the top of it collapsing towards Max. "Max!"

My hand reached out and had barely wrapped around her arm when I was jerked away. The darkness consumed me and when it cleared I found myself in Mr. Jefferson's class yet again with my hand still on Max's arm. Max was sitting upright- staring forward as if she'd just broken free of a nightmare. I pulled away from her and settled back into my seat. Max didn't seem to have noticed my presence in the slightest.

"Alfred Hitchcock called film 'little pieces of time' but he could also be talking about photography- as he likely was," Mr. Jefferson's lecture seemed to be in full swing. I glanced uneasily around the room as I tried to come to grips with what I had just seen. A storm? About to take out Arcadia Bay? "..from light to shadow..."

A paper ball flew across the room from a blonde girl that sat by Victoria and nailed the church girl in the head. I felt my blood boil. What the hell was that girl's problem? A cellphone started buzzing and I turned my attention to Victoria as she sent the call to voice mail.

"Now, can you give me an example of a photographer who perfectly captured the human condition in black and white? Anyone?" Mr. Jefferson's question caught my attention. Victoria raised her hand as if it were her divine privilege to answer his question.

"Diane Arbus," she answered confidently. I scoffed, earning a sharp look from the snob. Jefferson also gave me a look but his was more amused than annoyed.

"Not a favorite of yours, I presume?" he commented. I shrugged, having not meant to gain the attention of the entire class.

"I just think the idea of Diane Arbus having _perfectly_ captured the human condition is misinformed," I tried to put it lightly. I felt a bit on edge as Victoria and the girl with long blonde hair next to her glared at me. "Her photos are good but humanity isn't some tortured thing. It's deeper than that. Someone's humanity is what separates a man from a monkey."

"Very philosophical, Rio," Jefferson mused. Just then, I heard the sound of a camera going off to my left. I turned my head and saw Max placing her camera back on her desk and wagging an undeveloped photo in one hand.

"Shh... I believe Max has just taken what you kids call a "selfie"... A dumb word for a wonderful photographic tradition. And Max...has a gift," Mr. Jefferson remarked with a smirk. "Of course, as you all know, the photo portrait has been popular since the early 1800s. Your generation was not the first to use images for selfie expression. Sorry. I couldn't resist. The point remains that the portraiture has always been a vital aspect of art, and photography, for as long as its been around. "

"Now Max, since you've captured our interest and _clearly_ want to join the conversation, can you _please_ tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?" Mr. Jefferson asked, putting Max on the spot. _The Daguerrian Process_. I vaguely remembered my old pal Marco telling me all about it during his big "War on Selfies" that he had last year.

"You're asking me? Let me think.. Um..," I could tell Max was drawing a complete blank. My gaze turned to Victoria and I noticed with a frown that she was smiling at Max's discomfort. Mr. Jefferson slammed his hand down on the desk he was leaning on, startling me and a couple of other students.

"You either know this or not, Max. Is there anybody here who knows their stuff?" Mr. Jefferson was practically seething. Victoria answered- telling him all about Louis Daguerre and his daguerreotypes but my attention was focused on Max. She'd seemed to shrink away into a shell and it only got worst when Victoria turned to her and snarkily told her that she was 'stuck in the retro zone, sad face'. I wanted to shove my pen into her throat but refrained. Homicide is not good and violence is never worth the repercussions.

Finally, the final bell rang and Mr. Jefferson's lecture came to a close. He started saying something about a contest but I wasn't too concerned. I'd had my fill of contests. Ever since the one that landed me a spot here, I hadn't felt inclined to enter another. Photography was just a hobby for me- albeit a very expensive and time consuming hobby. Max moved over to the church girl and started talking to her in low, soothing tones and I took that as my cue to grab my things and leave. I was almost past them when I spotted the paper ball on the ground and my curiosity got the better of me.

Reaching down, I pluck up the crumpled piece of paper and straightened it out in my hands to read its contents.

**Hi Kate. We love your porn video. XOXO**

_"So her name's Kate? I can't believe_ she'd _be caught dead in a porn video. This must be a misunderstanding,"_ I thought as I tore up the paper and pocketed the shredded remains. I'd throw them away later when I passed a trash can. There's no reason for Kate to have to read that shit. I looked up towards the front of the room and saw Max approaching Mr. Jefferson. How long had I been standing here?

I started walking towards the door and was almost out when Jefferson called my name.

"Rio! Hold up a second," Mr. Jefferson was waving me over. Max was walking away- looking completely lost in her own world- but she still looked up at me as she walked past. Her arm brushed mine and I could have sworn I heard the sound of wind howling before she was gone. My attention refocused on Mr. Jefferson as I approached him and Victoria. She was standing- no longer leaning over his desk like some school girl in a shitty porn- with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed at me. "Victoria, you can leave."

"But-" Mr. Jefferson shut the blonde down with a stern look. She didn't even bother pretending not to be annoyed by being dismissed as she huffed and shoved her way past me.

"I apologize for that," Mr. Jefferson looked genuinely annoyed that Victoria had actually tried to impale me with her shoulder. She actually made good impact- my shoulder ached a little bit from where we'd collided.

"You wanted to talk to me, Mr. Jefferson?" I prompted. I really didn't want any more whispers going on about me than there already were. If I could help it, I was going to try to survive this year without having the get into too many fights.

"Ah, yes. I know you just started today so I am willing to give you until Thursday to come up with a photo for the Everyday Heroes Contest. I've seen your work. I'd love to see what kind of photo you would take for this contest. Especially considering your comments in class," he explained. "You have a good eye, Rio, and an inspired mind. You could change the world with your photos."

"That's a naive way of thinking," I couldn't help the slip of tongue. Mr. Jefferson arched an eyebrow at me. "I could take all the photos I want- of whatever fucked up shit I want. People have selective eyes, Mr. Jefferson. They only see what they want to see."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked towards the door. My hand has barely touched the handle when a flash of white light filled the room and I felt a strange pull in my stomach. When my vision cleared, I was sitting in my desk in the back corner of Mr. Jefferson's room and he was repeating the same lecture from earlier. A paper ball flew across the room towards Kate and hit her in the head again and Victoria's phone started buzzing. _What the hell?_

A large crash caught my attention and I turned to see Max staring down at her now shattered camera in dismay. Well... that is new, at least. Max reached out her right hand and I felt a strange twist in my gut. Suddenly, time seemed to go in reverse. I watched in shock as her camera repaired itself and floated back into place on her desk. When Max lowered her hand, time resumed.

_"Did she just reverse time?"_

I felt my heart hammering in my chest. Max looked at me as if she were confused and I realized I must have been staring for a minute. Then another realization hit me.

"Diane Arbus," Victoria answered confidently. This is the part where I was supposed to cough and then blab about how I disagreed about Arbus but I couldn't bring myself to speak.

"There you go, Victoria! Why Arbus?" Mr. Jefferson exclaimed.

"Because of her images of hopeless faces. You feel like, totally haunted by the eyes of those sad mothers and children," Victoria explained.

"She saw humanity as tortured, right? And frankly, it's bullshit," Mr. Jefferson remarked. "Shh. Keep that to yourself."

_"Huh, so this is how the lecture would have gone."_

"Seriously though, I could frame any one of you in a dark corner, and capture you in a moment of desperation," he continued and my stomach began twisting itself into knots. This lecture sure took a dark turn. Mr. Jefferson's eyes found my own and for a moment it seemed as if he were trying to convey a message to me with his eyes alone. "And any one of you could do that to me. Isn't that too easy? Too obvious?"

"What if Arbus chose to capture people at the height of their beauty or innocence? She had a brilliant eyes, so she could have taken another approach," Mr. Jefferson reasoned.

"I have to admit, I'm not a big fan of her work. I prefer... Robert Frank," Victoria admitted. Mr. Jefferson looked away from me and returned his attention to her.

"Me too, Victoria. He captured the essence of post-war beat America. And there was honesty about the economic conditions of that era, but a beauty in the struggle," he agreed. His eyes found mine again. "You don't have beauty without beat."

A camera went off to my left and I turned to see that Max had finally taken her selfie. The shock of the slight change in the lecture seemed to have worn off. I wondered if she knew that I hadn't been affected by whatever she'd done. More than anything, I wanted to ask her what she'd done and how she'd done it.

"Shh... I believe Max has just taken what you kids call a "selfie"... A dumb word for a wonderful photographic tradition. And Max...has a gift," Mr. Jefferson remarked with a smirk. "Of course, as you all know, the photo portrait has been popular since the early 1800s. Your generation was not the first to use images for selfie expression. Sorry. I couldn't resist. The point remains that the portraiture has always been a vital aspect of art, and photography, for as long as its been around. "

"Now Max, since you've captured our interest and _clearly_ want to join the conversation, can you _please_ tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?" Mr. Jefferson asked, putting Max on the spot, again.

"I'm sorry. I feel sick. May I be excused?" Max seemed nervous and that just set me even more on edge. What was wrong?

"Nice try, Max. But you're not going to get away that easy. We can talk more after class," Mr. Jefferson replied. Max looked genuinely ill at this news. "Now, is there anybody here who knows their stuff?"

I remembered Victoria making fun of Max before and decided to raise my hand. Mr. Jefferson appeared genuinely surprised but not nearly as surprised as Max. A thought occurred to me. Perhaps, if I told Max the answer, she could rewind time and answer it correctly. Then Mr. Jefferson wouldn't get pissy and ask to see her after class and I could follow her to figure out what's going on.

"Rio?"

"It was the _Daguerrian Process_ that was invented by a French painter named _Louise Daguerre_ around 1830," I put extra stress on the name of the man and the process hoping that Max would understand what I was trying to tell her without me having to literally spell it out for her. Max seemed to understand- or at least she finally snapped out of her own head and rose her right hand. The world around me began moving around backwards again as time rewound. I felt strangely detached from it all. It only took Max a second to rewind time to the correct moment.

"Now Max, since you've captured our interest and _clearly_ want to join the conversation, can you _please_ tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?" Mr. Jefferson asked. This time Max actually looked prepared and I had to refrain from breathing out a sigh of relief.

"The Daguerrian Process. Invented by a French painter named... Louis Daguerre. Around 1830," Max answered. Victoria shot her a dirty look but Max paid her no mind as she turned and gave me a grateful smile. I smiled back at her but I couldn't help the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong and I needed to find out what.

"Somebody has been reading as well as posing. Nice work, Max," Mr. Jefferson praised her. Class came to an end and Max came over to comfort Kate yet again. I began stowing away my things into my bag quickly before throwing my bag over my shoulder. As soon as she finished talking to Kate, Max made a beeline for the door.

"Max!" I called out to her as I rushed after her. I barely managed to get my hand around her arm when I heard Mr. Jefferson call us both over to his desk.

_"Just fucking great,"_ I thought as I glanced over at the fidgety girl next to me. _"I get to hear the inspirational speech all over again."_

"Actually, sir, I really need to go to the restroom. That Everyday Heroes Contest sounds neat. I'll try to turn something in by Wednesday," I waved him off and walked out into the hallway. Across the hall, I could hear the girl with long blonde hair and the short haired girl next to her gossiping. I rolled my eyes at them as I shoved my hands into my pockets and leaned against some lockers.

_"Alright Max Caulfield. You've got some explaining to do."_


	2. Don't Freak Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rio pursues Max to uncover the truth and gets a bit more than she bargained for.

Max emerged from the room moments later looking frazzled. She didn't even seem to see me as she hustled past and down the hallway. I followed behind her, shouldering my way past students. Close to the end of the hall, I saw an overweight Hispanic kid pressed up against some lockers by a guy in a sports jacket. My eyes spotted Max ducking into a bathroom and I gritted my teeth together before coming to a stop next to the pair. My hand reached out and I tapped the brown haired jock on the back. He turned around with a grunt and his brown eyes took a moment to find me.

"Hey. I was just wondering if you left your sense of decency in your other pants this morning?" I asked, crossing my arms and shifting my weight to one foot. His eyebrows raised as if he couldn't quite comprehend my presence. I was wondering if perhaps he'd taken too many blows to the head. I didn't have time to talk sense into an overgrown child. "Go throw around a ball, jockstrap."

I reached around him and wrapped my hand around the arm of the guy he'd been bullying and tugged him in my direction. The jock was still staring, dumbfounded, as I walked away with the dark haired boy in tow. Maybe he just didn't make a move after us because he didn't want to be seen hitting a girl. Maybe he realized pushing around the nerdy looking kid wasn't worth it. Either way, jockstrap didn't try to pummel me for dragging away his punching bag.

"You didn't have to do that," the kid informed me in a soft voice. I turned to face him with an arched eyebrow as I finally released his arm. What was this kid even talking about?

"Yea, I kinda did. That guy was being a dick. Look, here's my number. I gotta go. If he gives you any trouble, hit me up," I dug out a piece of scrap paper and scribbled my number onto it before shoving it into his hand. "There's a girl in the science room you can chill with if you need someone to watch your back for a few. She looks just like me but nicer. Much nicer. You can't miss her."

I turned on my heel and rushed into the bathroom that I had seen Max go into. I found her staring into a mirror that had been drawn on. She turned when she heard me enter and shrieked- causing my heart to pound as I screamed in response. As soon as she realized who I was, she jolted forward and covered my mouth with her hand as she began dragging me towards the back of the bathroom. Confusion filled me as I struggled against her grip but she held surprisingly firm until we were behind the stalls.

"I have to let you go but you have to be quiet, okay?" Max whispered. I nodded obediently and she finally released me. Straightening up, I looked around at the bucket and janitor's supplies we were huddled next to. Max was staring at me as if I had grown a second head.

"How am I the one getting weird looks here? She's the one reversing time!?" I thought incredulously.

"You're not supposed to be here," Max informed me with a troubled look on her face.

"Really? It's the girls' restroom. I am a girl," I replied pointedly, crossing my arms. A flutter of blue caught my attention and I looked up to see a blue butterfly fluttering through the open window up by the ceiling and coming down to land on the bucket. Max knelt down and pulled out her camera. She seemed completely oblivious to my presence in that moment and I found myself reaching for my camera. I pulled it up and activated it before lining up the shot. The lighting was as good as could be expected but the natural spontaneity of the moment seemed too good to pass up. My camera went off just before hers, thankfully, so her flash didn't cause a glare in my photo. I quickly saved the picture and deactivated my camera. The blue butterfly left its perch on the bucket and began flying away just as I heard the door to the restroom burst open. Max quietly stowed away her camera and the photo.

Max gave me a stern look and pressed a finger to her lips. She was glancing around for something. I wanted to ask what she was looking for. Maybe I could help?

A male voice caught my attention.

"It's cool Nathan... Don't stress... You're okay, bro... Just count to three...," Whoever he was, the dude sounded like he was having a serious mental break. I was tempted to take a peek at the source of the voice but I could tell from the way Max was acting that we really didn't want him to know we were back here. Besides, usually it was for the best not to alert people who are quite literally talking to themselves that you are hiding behind the stalls. "Don't be scared... You own this school... If I wanted, I could blow it up... You're the Boss."

The door opened and closed again.

"So what do you want?" the guy- Nathan?- asked and this time a girl's voice filled the small room along with the sound of stall doors banging open.

"I hope you 'checked the perimeter' as my step-ass would say. Now, let's talk bidness-"

"Shit. What if she looks back here?" I worried as I spotted Max analyzing a fire alarm. It was an older model- a "Break Glass In Case Of Emergency" kind of device. Was she planning on setting it off or something? Who gives a shit about a fire alarm?

"I got nothing for you," Nathan replied coolly.

"Wrong. You got hella cash," the girl snapped back at him. I hadn't heard her voice before but I'd also only been attending this school for a day so I hadn't heard a lot of people's voices.

"That's my family, not me," Nathan disagreed. Now I was sure Max was trying to find a way to break the glass.

"Oh boo hoo, poor little rich kid. I know you been pumpin' drugs n' shit to kids around here... I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them," the girl threatened. "Man I can see the headlines now-"

"She does realize this dude is seriously unstable, right?" I wondered as I searched around the floor and saw a discarded hammer underneath the janitorial supplies. "Who the hell leaves a hammer in a girls' restroom?"

"Leave them out of this, bitch," I squatted down and reached underneath the cart thing for the hammer.

"I can tell everybody Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself-" the girl snarled. I stood back up with the hammer in hand just as the two voices started growing frantic.

"You don't know who the fuck I am or who you're messing around with," Nathan growled.

"Where'd you get that? What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!" the girl demanded in a panic.

"Don't EVER tell me what to do! I'm so SICK of people trying to control me!" Nathan growled. I looked over and saw Max trying to quietly dig through the cart for a tool to break the glass.

"You are going to get into hella more trouble for this than drugs-" the girl reasoned. I waved my hand in Max's face, finally getting her attention as I presented the hammer to her. Her eyes lit up with hope when she saw the hammer.

"Nobody would ever even miss your punk ass, would they?" the guy taunted.

"Get that gun away from me psycho!" A gun shot rang out and I saw Max cringe before raising her hand and reversing time. I stared at her in wonder as time moved backwards and when she finally allowed time to resume I heard the two voices behind us resume their argument.

"Where'd you get that? What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!" the girl demanded. Max took the hammer from me and turned towards the alarm. She swung it without hesitation and the glass shattered. Her small hand thrust forward and slammed down on the fire alarm as my hands reached up to shield my ears. The alarm began blaring urgently and I heard a body hit the floor as the bathroom door opened. I peeked around the corner of the stall and spotted a blond, preppy boy on the ground next to the torn remains of a photo. The guy was holding a gun in one hand and he put it out of sight as he scrambled to his feet and then fled the bathroom.

I turned back around to see Max clutching the hammer defensively. I reached out cautiously and took the hammer from her. I tossed it onto the laminated bathroom floor haphazardly.

"Come on, Max. We need to get out of here," I coaxed her. My hand found hers and I began tugging her towards the exit. "Don't freak out, okay?"

"Holy shit. This chick just rewound time and saved a girl from getting shot. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit," I mentally freaked out. I felt my stomach twisting itself into knots. I didn't do well with loud noises and the sound of the alarm was almost unbearable. My head was pounding. When we got out, we were greeted by a tall, ex-military man with black hair and an accusatory look on his face.

"What are you two doing? Don't you hear that alarm?" he roared. I felt my agitation crawling under my skin as I clenched my fists and glared at him. "That alarm means you should be outside."

"I'm sorry, sir. I went to the bathroom and realized I had started my period so I asked Max if I could borrow a pad and-"

"Oh sure. Like I don't hear that excuse from every student here," he remarked coolly. I arched a black eyebrow at him.

"I sure hope you don't, sir, considering some of the students here are biologically incapable of 'riding the cotton pony' since they don't have a-"

"You're going to want to watch that smart mouth, ma'am," the security guard narrowed his brown eyes at me. I batted my eyelashes innocently at him. Honestly, I did need to watch my tongue; but this guy was making it too easy.

"That's enough, Mr. Madsen. Let these girls go. The situation is under control. There's no emergency here. Now get that alarm off," a tall, dark man walked out into the lobby. His booming voice officially put an end to my sarcastic commentary. "That is your job, after all."

Mr. Madsen gave me one last scathing look before disappearing into the bathroom behind us. I had to forcibly conceal the smirk that pulled at my lips. It wasn't a 'win', per se, but it was close enough. No one could blame me for the small grin that I allowed to slip as I pulled on Max's hand and we walked over to the exit. That little back and forth almost made my developing migraine worth it.

"Hold up girls," Principal Wells waved us over and I let out a subdued sigh. I really just wanted to get out of here and figure out what the hell was going on. I felt Max tense up beside me as we came to a stop in front of the principal. I slipped my fingers in between hers and squeezed her hand in a comforting gesture. When I looked up at Principal Wells, I met his scrutinizing gaze head on. I'd only met him on a few occasions during the registration process. He'd always been cordial with my sister and me. "You two feeling alright?"

"Yea, we're fine," I assured him but I could feel my voice waver. I wasn't a fucking actress. I'm barely a god damn amateur photographer.

"Are you sure? Max, you're sweating bullets," Principal Wells's eyebrows furrowed as he observed Max. I turned my gaze on her as well. She really did look like a wreck. Beads of perspiration were forming along her hairline and she looked mildly feverish. "Are you okay? You know you can always be up front with me."

"She's fine. We're just a little shaken up by the alarm, is all," I tried to cover. I wasn't sure if Max wanted to tell him about the kid with a gun or not.

"Just a little shaken up? You look like you're about to hurl, Miss Verde," Principal Wells commented as he looked at me. Did I really look that bad?

"It was Nathan," Max interjected. Principal Wells and I both turned to her in unison. "Nathan Prescott had a gun.. in the girls' room. He was talking to himself and waving it around."

"Nathan Prescott? You sure?" Principal Wells prodded.

"Yes. It was Nathan Prescott. We both saw him," Max gestured towards me. "He was acting like a lunatic and he had a gun."

"Okay, slow down. Slow down. You both saw Nathan Prescott with a gun in his hand?And he didn't see you?" Principal Wells assumed.

"Yea, we were hiding behind a stall. He barged in while we were talking and we hid. It's the girl's room. We have the right to be there," I informed him.

"I know, I know. It's just that Nathan Prescott happen's to be from one of the town's most prestigious families and he is an honor student here at Blackwell. It's just hard for me to picture him brandishing a weapon," Principal Wells explains. I frowned. What kind of bullshit is this? Does he really not believe us? "What happened next?"

"He left when the alarm went off," I explained. Max nodded in agreement. I realized we were still holding hands and pulled mine away. "We came out here after. We didn't know what to do and then Sergeant Asshole-"

"Hey!" Principal Wells gave me a stern look. I clamped my mouth shut.

"So what are you going to do?" Max asked hesitantly.

"These are serious charges. I'm going to have to look into the matter. Go outside with the rest of your class," Principal Wells dismissed us. Max went to object but I placed my hand on her shoulder. She looked over at me and got the message. 'There's nothing more we can do'. She sighed and we both started walking off towards the exit. We were at the door when Max turned to me and gave me a meaningful look.

"Maybe we shouldn't have told him," Max pondered.

"And let Prescott off thinking he got away scott free?" I asked in a harsh whisper. "No way. We just planted the seeds of doubt, Max. That son of a bitch just tried to kill some girl in the bathroom like she was trash. And now he knows there's more than one pair of eyes watching on him here at Blackwell."

"I guess you're right," Max agreed. She still looked super shaken up.

"Hey Max?" I tried using a gentler tone. Her eyes came up to meet mine. The stormy blues looked darker than they had when I'd met her this morning. "I think we need to have a serious talk about what the hell is going on."

"Yea," Max nodded. I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile and then shoved open the door. Fresh air hit me as the cool autumn wind brushed against my arms and we walked out into the plaza.

We had barely been outside for a moment when Lex came running towards us. She latched onto my arm and began talking my ear off in concerned tones. Normally, my sister's touch was the ultimate comfort; but right now it felt distant. I forced a cheery smile on my lips and batted off my sister's hand.

"Calm down, Lex. You'd think there'd been an actual fire," I remarked. Lex crossed her arms at me. I noticed the Hispanic boy from earlier standing behind her and I arched an eyebrow at him. At least he didn't seem to have gained anymore bruises.

"You could have had an episode," Lex insisted. I rolled my eyes. It'd been ages since my last "episode".

"I haven't had an episode in months, sister of mine. Leave me alone," I hissed through clenched teeth, brushing past her as I started to walk away.

"Rio?" the dude I'd helped out earlier grabbed my arm as I passed and I raised both eyebrows at him questioningly. His other hand was clutching a sketch pad against his chest as if it were his lifeline. "I'm Daniel. You helped me out earlier. I was wondering if I could sketch you."

"Sketch me?" I clarified. "Why not sketch my sister? We look exactly the same."

"He wants to sketch you. He says you have a certain... dark allure," Lex leaned forward and wiggled her eyebrows at me suggestively. I gave her a playful shove before returning my attention to Daniel.

"Um, yea. You can sketch me, Daniel," I gave him a small smile and then turned to look over at Max. She was tapping away on her phone. "Max?"

"Yea? Sorry, it's Warren. He needs his flashdrive." Max raised her head and her blue eyes found my face. I took her phone out of her hands and typed a message to myself in it.

"Now you have my number. We should get together later," I gave her a meaningful look as I handed her phone back to her. Max got the message and walked off to go take care of her business. I turned back around and saw that Daniel had flipped his sketchbook open to a clean page. Lex had scampered off with her camera- I could see her squatting next to a squirrel a few yards away. "So... Where do you want to do this?"

"Would you like to go take a seat over on the fountain?" Daniel motioned towards the fountain. I shrugged and started walking.

"So you like to draw?" I prodded as I took a seat on the fountain.

"Yes. May I?" Daniel had reached towards my shirt. I nodded. He was just leaning towards me when Daniel began moving backwards and I looked around to see that time was rewinding, again. When time resumed, Daniel was just coming up to kneel in front of me at the fountain.

"So.. you like to draw?" I prodded, wondering how far back time had reversed.

"Yes. May I?" Daniel again reached towards my shirt and I nodded. He leaned forward and began plucking at parts of the fabric- straightening and fixing it. When he was pleased, he sat back and stared at me through the lenses of his glasses. He had an intense look in his eyes that had me sitting completely still as his pencil began scratching along the page. There's something almost breathtaking about an artist at work. He was drawing for quite a few minutes before he finally spoke again. "It's been quite some time since I last found a... a muse."

"I'm your new muse?" I clarified. Daniel looked up from his paper, his pencil stopping for a moment.

"You remind me of her," he informed me. Her? Daniel ducked his head back down and resumed drawing.

"Her? Your previous muse?" I pondered. Daniel glanced back up at me, drew a few more lines across the paper, and then finally set his pencil down. I felt a strange shift in a the atmosphere and then time started moving backwards.

"Max, what the hell?" I thought as time resumed.

"You remind me of her," Daniel informed me, again, before ducking his head back down to resume drawing.

"Her? Your previous muse?" I asked. Daniel yet again finished up the drawing as he glanced one last time between me and the paper. This time, he replied.

"Her name was Rachel Amber. She was very nice," Daniel smiled at me as he turned his sketchbook around and showed me the sketch. It was me, alright. My black hair was like a pool of shadows framing my long face. The angle he chose for the sketch showed off my Nordic nose and slightly down turned lips. More than anything, my almond shaped eyes stood out on the paper. He'd given my irises intricate detail. It felt as if the me on the paper was staring into my soul.

"This is beautiful, Daniel," I praised as my eyes raked over every line on the page.

"Thank you," Daniel smiled. "I would like to post this on Facebook, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," I insisted. "So what happened to this Rachel girl?"

"No one knows. She went missing back in April. One day she just stopped coming to class. Some people think she ran away and some say she jumped off a cliff. I just hope she's okay," Daniel told me. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and unlocked the screen. A message from Max had lit up on the screen.

Meet me over in front of the Dormitories? -Max

Sure. Just...take it easy on the time thing. -Me

I stuffed my phone back into my pocket and bid farewell to Daniel as I began walking away. We made plans to hang out some time and for me to let him draw me again. My eyes scanned around the plaza as I looked for an indication as to which way the dorms were. My sister and I had moved our things into our separate rooms last night.

"The dorms should be..this way..," I thought as I walked off in one direction. The large girls' dormitory had came into view after a few minutes of walking. A budding feeling of triumph filled me. At least I hadn't ended up on the wrong side of campus or something stupid like that. I was almost to the dorms when I heard a vaguely familiar male voice and I caught sight of "Sergeant Asshat" berating Church Girl. She was practically whimpering. "Does this school really have such a bad bully problem that even the security officer is in on the action?"

I grabbed my camera and activated it, pointing it at the pair. I peered through the viewfinder at them and took the picture. At least this way I'd have some proof to show. I was lowering my camera to check the image when I spotted Max charging in with that little bit of vengeful angel fire burning in her face. She sent David Madsen packing- not that the officer wasn't seething as he went. A little bit of pride swelled up in my chest. Max was a pretty cool girl, so far; even if she did make me feel like I was going insane.

"Hey Max!" I called out to her as I deactivated my camera and Kate walked off. I stowed my camera away into my bag carefully and walked down the steps towards her. Max met me about halfway, looking less like a vengeful angel now and more like a self doubting teenager.

"Hey Rio," she greeted me with a shaky smile. "I have to go meet Warren in the parking lot to give him his flashdrive."

"You want me to come with?" I assumed.

"Yea, I just.. I really need to talk to you about something," Max told me, her eyes flickering from side to side frantically.

"Yea. It's been a crazy day," I agreed as we turned and headed back the way I'd come. The parking lot shouldn't be too far away. We'd have to walk back through the plaza and to the other side of the school building.

"I don't know what's happening but..," Max struggled for the right words. I stopped walking and reached out for her arm, pulling her to a stop as well.

"Somehow, you are reversing time, right?" I prompted. Max looked up at me with wide blue eyes.

"Yes, I am. I mean, I think that's what I'm doing. How did you know?" Max stumbled over her words as she talked.

"Slow down, Max. I don't know what the hell is going on but whenever you reverse time, it doesn't affect me," I explained. "Earlier, in Mr. Jefferson's class, I saw you fall asleep. I reached over and touched your arm and when I did I got sucked into some sort of.. of vision. There was a storm, Max. It was gigantic."

"You saw it too?" Max gaped at me in disbelief.

"All of it," I assured her.

"What if it's really going to happen. What if it was a vision of the future... Arcadia Bay's future?!" Max informed me frantically. Panic seized my heart in an iron grip. I couldn't picture a gigantic storm hitting Arcadia Bay? It was so sunny and beautiful outside. No hints of a humongous super storm on the horizon.

"This is insane," I gasped, running my hands through my hair. Max nodded in agreement. The pure insanity of this situation was the only thing we were both completely certain of. "So, if this thing is for real, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know. I'm just trying to figure it out as I go along right now," Max admitted sheepishly.

"Alright. First thing's first. Let's go meet potassium boy," I decided.

"Potassium boy?"


	3. Hurt Like A Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rio encounters Nathan Prescott and things get a little too close for comfort between her and Mark Jefferson as snow falls in Arcadia.

When Max and I arrived at the parking lot, I let her go talk to Warren by herself. I could tell from the way he was giving her googly eyes that he was totally head of sneakers for her. An odd, angry emotion prickled underneath my skin. I brushed the feeling off as I explored the parking lot but kept an eye on the couple. They were chatting, Max smiling and laughing and Warren grinning as if he'd just struck gold. It was almost...cute.

Then I saw Prescott come storming up to them. I took off at a sprint across the parking lot and was moving towards the drama from right behind him as he was getting into Max's space.

"You're one of Jefferson's photo groupie's?" Nathan asked, jabbing an accusatory finger in Max's face. Max frowned at him, but saw me approaching from over his shoulder.

"I'm one of his students," Max corrected. Nathan scoffed at her.

"What the fuck ever. I know you like to take pictures, especially when you're hiding out in the bathrooms," Nathan drew up close to Max and I felt my blood start to simmer. "You best tell me what you and that skank told the principal. Now."

"You best back off, asshole," I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away from her. Nathan protested but I made a point of stepping between them.

"Oh yea? Who's going to make me? Your punkass?" Nathan gestured at my outfit as he moved forward. I glared up at him but stood my ground. It occurred to me that he probably still had the gun on him.

 _"Fuck,"_ I mentally swore.

"Get away from her!" Warren growled, surprising me as he came out from behind me and shoved Nathan away from me. Nathan's pretty boy facial features twisted with rage as he shoved Warren to the ground and moved forward to wrap his hand around my throat. I clawed at his face and my long nails drew blood. Max was pulling on Nathan's hand, trying to get him to relinquish his grip on me.

"Get...out..of here..Max," I choked out as I pulled my knee up and hit Nathan in the crotch. He grunted and fell to the ground clutching his aching groin. A rusty, beaten up tan truck squealed to a stop in front of us. A girl with blue hair was driving it. She pushed the passenger door open and shouted at Max to get in. Max stared between the two of us, torn. "Go, Max!"

Nathan clambered to his feet as Max was climbing into the truck. I slammed the door shut behind her and turned around to face Nathan just as a fist collided with my cheek. Sparks of pain ignited from the contact and I clutched my face as I stumbled away from him. Max called out my name but I could barely hear it over the sound of squealing tires as the blue haired girl peeled out of the parking lot.

I refocused in on the brawl to see Warren pinned underneath Nathan. Nathan was wailing on the poor kid. I rushed forward, wrapping my arms around Nathan's waist and dragging him off of Warren with all of my strength. He tore out of my grip and had wheeled around to face me when I heard a loud, booming male voice call out.

"Hey! Cease and desist!" David Madsen ordered as he came running up between us. I never thought I'd actually be grateful to see this asshat. My hand reached up to rub my neck. It hurt like a bitch from the death grip Nathan had had on me just a few moments ago. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was breathing a lot faster than I should have been. I tried to calm my breathing as I reached up with my other hand to assess the damage on my face. A warm, sticky feeling met my fingertips and I pulled my hand away to look at it. Bastard fucking drew blood when his damn knuckle collided with my cheekbone. "What is the meaning of all this?"

"Nothing," Nathan lied through his teeth. I narrowed my eyes at him. At least I could appreciate the pretty number my nails had done to his face.

"Doesn't look like 'nothing' to me," Officer Madsen retorted with narrowed eyes. He turned his gaze on me and I threw up my hands in mock surrender.

"Don't look at me, chief. _He's_ the mental case," I gestured towards Nathan.

"Oh and I'm supposed to believe that you're just a hapless victim in all of this, Miss Verde?" he arched a disbelieving eyebrow at me. I shrugged my shoulders in response.

"Look, you can believe what you want to," I waved him off as I moved over to where Warren had propped himself up on his elbows on the asphalt. I offered out my hand to him and he took it gratefully. Bracing myself, I helped Warren onto his feet. His striped shirt had gotten a little torn up and he had a nasty looking black eye. "We should probably get you some first aid."

"Me? You're fucking _bleeding_ ," Warren exclaimed as his eyes scrutinized the damage to my face.

 _"It's not that bad,"_ I thought as I brushed off his concern and turned back to face Nathan and David. They were both having some type of hushed argument-standoff thing between the two of them.

"Hey!" I barked, promptly interrupting them. As soon as I had David's attention, I continued, "If you're done not doing anything, we're gonna leave."

"Who said I'm done with you, missy?" David asked in a low growl as he marched up to me. "You seem to be making a habit of getting into trouble- and on your first day here, no less."

"You got a problem with me defending myself, take it up with someone who gives a shit. If you need me, I'm sure you know where to find me," I hissed, officially pissed off. I grabbed Warren's hand and pulled him along with me as I brushed past David. We were a few feet past Nathan when I looked over my shoulder and leveled my gaze on him. "And as for you. You _ever_ touch me again and I will rearrange that pretty boy face of yours, capiche?"

I didn't wait for a reply as I dragged Warren out of the parking lot and up the path towards the plaza. I was sure I had some first aid in my dorm. True, I wasn't supposed to have a guy in the girls' dorm; but I really couldn't give a rat's ass. My nerves were officially fried. I had forgotten my hold on Warren's hand until we reached the fountain and were approached by Mr. Jefferson.

The photography teacher's eyes went straight to our joined hands and I found myself releasing Warren's hand as if it were on fire.

"You two look like you you've been having a rough day," Mr. Jefferson pointed out with a curious raise of his eyebrows. There was a dark gleam in his eyes that gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"We just had a nasty slip," I lied, pointing to Warren's black eye. "We're heading over to the dorms to get some first aid and try to recover some dignity."

I gave a fake laugh and Warren joined in after a second.

"Yea. It was quite the wipe out," Warren followed along as he chuckled. I was thankful that the guy was smart enough not to bring up our little altercation with Nathan. If there was anything I had learned today, it's that going up against that kid was not a matter to take lightly.

"Well, Mr. Graham, it looks like you could just use a bag of ice on that eye. Now, Miss Verde on the other hand," Mr. Jefferson advanced towards us, his eyes on my face. "I have an emergency first aid kit in my classroom in case a kid does something stupid. We can use it to fix up that cut of yours."

"I'm fine, really," I insisted.

"Sure you are. Come on. It's not going to kill you to leave your boyfriend's side for a few minutes," Mr. Jefferson argued. Warren and I sputtered simultaneously.

"He is _not_ my boyfriend."

"It's not like that!"

"I mean, no offense-"

"None taken!"

"We just met today!"

"Yea! I mean you're cool and all..."

"But we barely know each other."

"Exactly."

"Plus he likes another girl."

"Yea. Wait. How did you-"

"As interesting as this is, we really need to take care of that before it gets infected," Mr. Jefferson interrupted our little back and forth. I hated to agree with him but my busted up cheek seemed to throb its own agreement with the photographer. I ran my hand through my hair in a frustrated gesture and let out a sigh of defeat.

"Fine," I consented. I turned to Warren and dug my phone out of my pocket. I unlocked it and handed it to him. "Message yourself on my phone so we'll have each other's numbers. Let me know if you hear from Max, okay?"

"You got it, Rio," Warren did as directed before handing my phone back to me. He seemed unwilling to leave but he finally took off at a leisurely stroll in the direction of the dorms after I gave him a pointed look.

"Alright, let's get this over with," I forced a grin and then winced when it pulled at the cut. Mr. Jefferson gestured for me to lead the way and I shrugged before doing so. The school building was practically abandoned. We walked in silence until we reached his classroom. I could feel his eyes on me the entire way. It was slightly unsettling but not necessarily in a bad way. I just couldn't shake the bad feeling that had settled in the pit up my stomach.

Mr. Jefferson pushed open his classroom door and held it for me. Once I had entered, he moved past me and over to his desk. He pulled out one of the drawers and drew out a bulky first aid kit. I approached his desk but as I passed the photos I could hear faint whispers emanating from them. I couldn't help myself as I drew up close to one of the photos- this was one of the woods. It was dark and ominous. It had my undivided attention. The picture whispered to me and as I grew closer its voice grew louder.

_"This is such a good shot."_

_"Was that Jefferson's voice?"_ I wondered.

_"I wonder how it would look with one of my subjects."_

No doubt about it. That was definitely Jefferson's voice. It sounded different somehow. Darker. Almost disturbingly so.

"Rio?" Mr. Jefferson's voice boomed- this time from outside my head. I shook away the whispers and looked over at him. He was standing a couple of feet from me, an alcohol swab in one hand and a box of band aids in the other. "She awakens! I've been trying to get your attention for a few minutes now."

"Sorry. I just got distracted looking at the photos," I admitted.

"May I ask which one caught your attention? It must be a pretty interesting shot," he prodded. I pointed to the forest shot. "Ah.. That one."

I felt a slight pressure in the atmosphere and Jefferson began moving backwards towards his desk until he was standing there shifting through the supplies again as if nothing had happened. Max must have reversed time. Again. I really hoped she had a good reason. This was getting really frustrating. Mr. Jefferson looked up at me once he had yet again procured the alcohol swab and band aids.

"Examining the photos, I see?" he assumed.

"Yea. I like the lighting on this shot in particular really caught my eye," I pointed towards the forest photo.

"Ah.. That one."

 _"Huh.. he must have some pent up aggression concerning this shot,"_ I mused.

He didn't say anything further. He just motioned for me to move over to one of the desks. I took a seat over in the one by the window and Mr. Jefferson brought over a chair in front of me. Setting down the box of band aids on the desk, he unwrapped the alcohol swab.

"We're going to want to clean this up first. It's going to sting," he informed me as he leaned forward. His left hand came up to hold my face in place. I could feel the spots were his fingertips pressed against my face like red hot pokers. I shifted a little in my seat at his touch. "Hold still. The cut itself isn't that big."

His right hand came up and he began cleaning up the cut. It did sting and I let out a little swear word under my breath.

"You're quite the sailor, Rio," Mr. Jefferson observed.

"I guess my mom didn't clean my mouth out with soap enough as a child," I shrugged. He chuckled- a deep, reverberating thing that made my stomach flip. "You do know that I know how a band aid works, right?"

"Are you going to tell me how you really got this?" Mr. Jefferson asked, ignoring my question.

"I told you. We fell," I lied.

The weird pressure change happened again and I almost audibly groaned as he pulled away from me and began going through his previous motions backwards. There was a high likelihood that I was going to _strangle_ Max if she was using her powers on something stupid. The pressure was relieved when time resumed but my awful headache from earlier had reawakened at full strength.

"We're going to want to clean this up first. It's going to sting," Mr. Jefferson repeated. The weird sense of deja vu that came over me each time Max rewound time was also starting to grow a little old. This time I didn't move. His right hand came up and he began carefully dabbing at the cut on my left cheek. It stung just as much the second time around but I bit back the swear word that wanted to slip free.

"So..," Mr. Jefferson trailed off and I almost wish that I had let loose a few choice swear words if only to fill the silence. "Are you going to tell me who gave you this?"

"I told you. We fell," I repeated the lie.

"You fell? That's how you got finger-shaped bruises on your neck?" Mr. Jefferson pulled his right hand away and reached over for a band aid he'd already unwrapped. He took off the tabs and used both hands to apply the band aid.

"You've got to be kidding me," I groaned as one of my hands reached up to poke the tender area on my neck.

"Rio, you can tell me the truth. If someone is hurting you, you don't have to stay silent about it," Mr. Jefferson insisted. "I know you probably don't want to talk to some old guy about your troubles, but I am here if you need someone to talk to."

"I just started here. Who could possibly have done this to me?" I pointed out defensively.

"I don't know. Mr. Graham was sporting quite the shiner," Mr. Jefferson offered. I rolled my eyes, pulling away from his touch. He dropped his hands into his lap.

"You think _Warren_ did this? Okay, for one thing, we're not dating," I argued, feeling my anger levels start to rise. "Second thing, Warren didn't do this to me. It was some blond asshole, okay? We got in a little tussle. I scratched his face and kneed him in the crotch. He choked me and punched me in the face. I figure we're pretty even."

"Was he another student here?" Mr. Jefferson asked, his expression suddenly very grim.

"Yea," I rose from my chair, ready to leave. The bad feeling in my stomach was starting to fester. I started moving towards the door and a hand on my arm stopped me. I pulled my arm free, but turned around to face Mr. Jefferson. "What?"

"I want you to steer clear from Nathan Prescott, Rio," Mr. Jefferson ordered. I arched an eyebrow at him.

"I'll make a deal with you. As long as _Nathan Prescott_ steers clear of _me_ , there won't be a problem. That kid needs serious mental help," I replied.

"Fair enough. Just try to stay out of trouble. Keep your head down, okay?" he insisted.

"I'll do my best," I conceded. I spun on my heel and headed back for the door but Mr. Jefferson's voice stopped me just as my hand landed on the handle.

"I meant what I said this morning- about wanting to see you through my lens," he stated. I looked over my shoulder at him. He had a very intense look in his dark brown eyes. "And I hope you submit a photo for the Everyday Hero Contest."

"Will do, sir," I replied. I opened the door and was just walking out into the hallway when I heard the sound of howling wind. "Shit."

My legs buckled underneath me and I felt my body collapse as my vision went dark. Suddenly, I was back on the path from Max's vision. I could see Max struggled through the pouring rain up ahead of me. The rain splattered against my face and soaked through my clothes as I pursued her. A cascading mountain of rocks nearly crushed her but Max managed to reverse time before impact. She rushed past the obstacle and further up the path. I, on the other hand, had to clamber over the rocks once they had settled down. I'd just cleared them when I spotted Max rewinding time so that she could duck out of the way of a pile of logs. I groaned, jumping to the side to get out of the way of the logs and landing in a bush.

"God damn it, Max," I hissed. I dragged myself out of the bush and brushed wet strands of my hair out of my face. I rushed up to the top of the hill and spotted Max reversing time yet again. This time, she was putting the lighthouse back together. Time resumed and I took off running through the mud after her as a boat went flying through the air and collided with the lighthouse. The tree blocking her path was shoved out of the way by rubble and I just barely managed to catch up with her and pass through the danger zone before the top of the lighthouse came rumbling through. "Max!"

The petite brunette turned around.

"You're here!" she exclaimed.

"I'm here!" I agreed. Max looked around and spotted a newspaper stuck to a wooden pole. She walked over to it and snatched it up.

"Oh my gosh! This newspaper says that today is..," Max trailed off. I moved forward and l eyed the soaked newspaper.

"Is this date for real?" I blanched.

"If this is true.. Then this is Friday. We traveled into the future, Rio," Max tore her eyes away from the newspaper to look at me. "This storm is going to hit Arcadia Bay in four days."

"We're all going to die," I whispered. I reached out towards Max but the same pulling feeling from the first time took hold of me and I was jerked out of the vision.

I could hear someone saying my name but I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes. My head felt like it was full of cotton. After a few minutes of the voice's insistent nagging and a hand shaking me. My eyes fluttered open and I found myself staring up at a concerned Mr. Jefferson. He breathed out a sigh of relief.

"What happened? I moaned, struggling to shift into a sitting position. Mr. Jefferson helped me sit up and kept his arm around my back after he did so. I couldn't muster the energy to move away from.

"You fainted," he informed me. I looked around me and happened to glance out the windows of his classroom. My angle from the floor of his classroom wasn't the best but I could still see the fat, white flakes of snow falling from the sky.

"Is it... snowing?" I asked. Mr. Jefferson turned and looked. His jaw dropped and his brow furrowed. Honestly, confused and fascinated was a good look for him.

"Now that is weird," he stated.

"You don't know the half of it," I breathed. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. It must be Max. Was she seeing this freaky weather too?


	4. Suicide and Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate Marsh attempts suicide and Rio discovers she has abilities of her own. Rio's medical condition is revealed.

I woke up to the sounds of soft music playing with a crick in my neck and a post it note stuck to my forehead. Groaning, I straightened up in the desk chair I'd passed out in and glanced around the room. It wasn't my room- of that much I was sure. I spotted Max sprawled across her bed with a pillow thrown on top of her head. She was snoring lightly.

 _"That's right. We'd been up all night researching her ability,"_ I recalled as I pulled the post it note off of my face and crumpled it. All of our research had lead to dead ends and creepy conspiracy sights that also turned out to be dead ends. I was pretty sure that Max had rewound at least a dozen times just to give us a few more minutes and to try to get answers out of some sketchy conspiracy theorists. It kind of sucked that none of it panned out.

Max looked completely wiped out even with that pillow hiding her face. I wondered how much energy it took for her to rewind time the way she did. I glanced over to her wall of photos and rubbed my temples as the whispers started.

"Stop it," I hissed, waving away the voices as I fumbled around for my bag and pulled out my medicine. I took an anticonvulsant. It made my episodes less frequent and more manageable and had the added side effect of making the voices harder to hear. They were still there- like an undercurrent of static in my brain as I dry swallowed a pill and put my pill bottle back into my bag.

Only Lex knew about the voices. They weren't that big of a deal. I only heard them around developed photographs. It was like I could hear the photographer and, if there was one, model talking to one another. The more I focused on a particular photo, the clearer the voices became.

An alarm went off and I returned my attention to Max as she reached over and slapped the snooze. She grumbled irritably as she stretched and dragged herself up into a sitting position. Max seemed momentarily surprised by my presence, but the surprise melted away as she remembered our late night research session.

"Not a morning person, I guess?" I assumed as I watched her trudge over to her mirror and begin pulling and prodding at her face.

"You could say that," Max grunted as she began searching around her room. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Probably a good idea. You look like shit," I grinned. Max tossed a balled up shirt at me that I nimbly dodged. It collapsed against the wall nearby harmlessly. "I'm gonna head over to my room and get changed. I really need to get to work on that Everyday Heroes Contest if I want to get Jefferson off my back."

"Yea," Max trailed off. I gathered my things into my bag and tossed it over my shoulder. As I passed her, I gave Max a reassuring pat on the arm.

"Hey, I'll see you later, alright?" I waited for her to meet my gaze and nod before finally leaving Max's room.

Max had been freaked out when she had finally gotten in touch with me last night after I had left Jefferson's room. Apparently blue haired chick was the girl Prescott had tried to off in the bathroom yesterday and was also, coincidentally, Max's best friend from about 5 or so years ago.

No, that curdling feeling in the pit of my stomach was not jealousy, _thank you very much_. I had no reason to be jealous of this 'Chloe' chick. Besides, Max could hang out with whoever she wanted. It's not like I had some special claim to her. I did just meet the girl _yesterday_. I headed to my room at the end of the hall. Lex and I were both in this weird branch that turned off from the rest at the end of the hall. Lex's room was 225- the one right across from me. Her white board had "We're all mad here..." written on it in black Expo marker. I smiled at the reference and then ducked into my own room.

I wasn't one for decoration- er go why both my whiteboard and my room itself were fairly barren compared to Max or Lex. My comforter was black and white striped and I had a pair of matching pillows up at the end of the bed. My desk only held my laptop and a few random flashdrives along with a copy of my portfolio. I had a tall, black bookshelf that was lined with several books that I had collected throughout the years.

Literature. That was where I found my peace. The written word was often the loudest. Pictures could speak volumes- literally in my case- but books _came_ in volumes.

Music was my second haven- more often than not it was the one I managed to seek out the most often. I bent down to where my stereo was located and turned it on. My favorite Mix CD was already in and so I pressed play. The beginning chords of a Fall Out Boy song began flowing from the speakers and I let out a sigh. Pleased with the song selection, I moved over to my closet and grabbed a shirt and a pair of jeans at random to change into.

I lucked out with the shirt and had pulled out my favorite navy 221B tank top. My inner geek clapped with joy as I started undressing. I slipped on the shirt first, pulling it down and then adjusting it to make sure my black bra wasn't showing. Then I tugged on my black skinny jeans. I'd broken in these bad boys a year or so ago which meant that they were super comfortable. Pocketing my cellphone, I walked back over to my closet and began digging through the bottom of it where I kept my haphazard pile of shoes. Eventually, I found my target. A pair of slightly bulky black combat boots.

"Score!" I grinned as I tugged on a pair of socks and the boots. I walked over to my bookshelf and grabbed my hairbrush from its hiding place among the Dickens. Tugging it through my hair, I fought the snarls and tangles that had built up in my long, ebony locks overnight. No matter how hard I fought with it, the top of my hair refused to sit down. I searched around my room for a solution and spotted my battered black fedora. It had been ages since I had worn that thing but I'd brought it along for sentimental value. "Looks like it's your lucky day, soldier."

Fedora in place, I grabbed my camera and stowed it away into my bag before shouldering my bag and stepping out into the hallway. No one was really out and about as I walked down the hall but I could have sworn I heard Victoria's voice as I passed the bathroom. A shiver went down my spine. Imagine if I'd had to talk to that bitch this early in the morning.

Once I finally managed to get outside, I took in a deep breath of Arcadia Bay air. It wouldn't be long before I'd have to get to class. I needed to think of something for the Everyday Heroes Contest.

I didn't really care about winning. The sooner I turned in a decent photo, the sooner I could put all of my focus on what was going on with Max.

Inspiration struck and I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket. I dialed Lex's number from muscle memory.

"Hello," she answered groggily.

"Grab my tripod, your makeup kit, and the widow dress," I ordered.

"Um...sure?" Lex agreed. I heard the sounds of her shuffling things around. There was a loud crash and a muttered curse word before she talked clearly into the microphone again. "Any special occasion?"

"Just a little contest," I informed her offhandedly.

"We're definitely going to miss our classes," Lex pointed out matter-of-factly.

"No, we'll make it. The English teacher is out anyway," I assured her confidently. "I just have to get back to the school by Mr. Jefferson's class."

* * *

When I finally got back to the school, I realized that I had missed a few text messages from Max. Something about heading off to meet Chloe this morning and then later on that they had gone to the junkyard. I had been wondering why time kept reversing while I was trying to find the perfect spot to take my photo. Apparently, she had been trying to prove her power to the blue haired girl.

So I'd ended up hauling ass to get to school because Max couldn't keep her metaphorical "time dick" in her pants. That wasn't to mention the killer headache that I'd had to try to subdue using three ibuprofen.

I arrived barely in time for Mr. Jefferson's class. No surprise there. When you spend an hour, minimum, driving around town looking for a prime location and also having to deal with time rewinding haphazardly, you kind of expect to end up running a little late to wherever it is you're supposed to be and whatever you're supposed to be doing. By a little late, I mean you end up looking like something the cat dragged in as you come racing into class just barely in the nick of time. At least I had a printed out photo in hand when I barged into his room with my hair in a disarray and my tank top askew.

Mr. Jefferson was standing at the front of the class and he turned once he saw me enter. I stopped in my tracks, taking in deep breaths as I straightened my tank top.

"Look who it is! Miss Verde decided to join us today after all," Mr. Jefferson announced, gesturing towards me. His dark eyes scrutinized my harried appearance.

"Sorry, I was-"

"There's some crazy shit going down at the girl's dorm!" a guy yelled as he ran into the classroom and shoved into me on his way. I was sent sprawling, my hands flying out to catch me. The same pressure that I had experienced several times both today and yesterday happened and time reversed as I continued my downward plummet. My hands failed to catch me as the shock of Max rewinding time took effect and I collapsed onto the floor- my nose smashing into the tile.

"Miss Verde, I see you decided to _drop_ in," Mr. Jefferson commented. Great, so time was up and running already.

Bright white spots of pain filled my vision as I groaned and rolled onto my back. I reached up and felt the sticky red blood coming from my nose.

"Rio," I heard someone say my name but couldn't distinguish who it was.

"There's some crazy shit going down at the girl's dorm!" the guy from before yelled as he came barreling into the room. He looked down at me and I gave him a meek wave before collapsing back onto my back to try to battle the awful headache that was forming.

"Zachary, do _not_ come barging into my room like that again!" Mr. Jefferson yelled.

"There's some girl on the roof of the dorm. She's gonna jump!" Zachary insisted before running out of the room. I struggled into a sitting position as the class erupted into chaos. Jefferson tried to wrangle in the students but there was no use as they all went hustling past me and out the door. Max was the only one to stop. She helped me to my feet.

"Oh my god, Rio, are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

"Yea, I'm fine," I wiped at the blood under my nose. "Let's go see about this girl. Maybe you can help."

Max nodded and we left the room side by side. My equilibrium was completely out of whack but I struggled to keep pace with Max. I did my best to keep from letting on to the fact that I wasn't feeling quite right. We rushed over to the dorm side by side. Once we got there, it didn't take much guesswork to figure out who the girl on top of the building was.

"Kate," I gasped.

"Kate!" Max cried out. I watched on in horror as Kate fell from the rooftop. Beside me, Max panicked and rewound time. It wasn't enough. Kate jumped yet again. Max tried to rewind a second time but she couldn't go back far enough. I looked over at Max. Her nose was bleeding profusely and she looked like she was about to fall over. She was going to kill herself if I didn't do something. My eyes looked up at Kate as she took up position at the edge of the rooftop yet again. I _had_ to do something."She can't die... She can't die..."

My hand reached out towards Kate and I felt something in the air. It was as if I could feel strings- wrap my fingers around the invisible threads. I knotted the threads around my fingers and yanked.

It felt like a rod of hot iron had pierced through my abdomen. I cried out and fell to my knees but when I looked up at the rooftop Kate wasn't moving.

"Rio? What's going on?" Max asked. I turned my gaze on her but I couldn't lower my arm. I could still feel the threads of _something_ wrapped tightly around my fingers. The strings were pulling against my grip- trying to escape my grasp. Max was staring at me in shock. "What did you do?"

I looked around us and realized that no one was moving- not even an inch. Even the rain that had previously been pouring down on us was frozen in mid air.

That's when I realized what had happened.

I had made time stand still.

"Max. Go!" I jerked my head in Kate's general direction. "This is your chance to save her. Go!"

The threads in my hands strained. Max stared at me for a moment before finally taking off towards the dorm. I couldn't help but notice the way she staggered as she went. If she said the wrong thing and Kate decided to jump, would Max have the strength to rewind again?

Minutes went by as Max and I operated together as the girls outside of time. The invisible strings were straining too tight and felt like they would snap in my hands. My brain felt like it was pulsing against my skull. White spots danced in my vision and I felt a hazy buzz creep up my neck. I couldn't hold on any longer.

"I'm sorry, Max," I gasped as I let go and collapsed sideways onto the sidewalk. The grainy texture of the sidewalk rubbed against my hurt cheek and tore off the band aid along with scraping my arms. I hissed in pain as my partially healed cut was ripped open. A pair of hands were on me and my upper body was lifted off of the ground as someone turned me onto my back and pulled my head into their lap. Rain splattered against my face and bare arms.

"Rio, are you okay?" Lex had been the one to rush to my aid. Of course. I craned my neck to try to get a glimpse of what was going on on the roof. Kate's back was to me so I was sure that Max had to have at least made it up to the roof. "Stop moving. You're hurt. What the hell happened?"

"I fell," I brushed off my sister's concern as she forced me to look away from Kate.

"Did you have an episode?" Lex asked me, brushing loose strands of my hair out of my face as her hazel eyes searched me for any signs that I would slip into another episode.

"No.. I don't think so," I insisted. Then it hit me. I felt the slight pressure of Max trying to reverse time and it was like a chord in me snapped. All of the muscles in my body stiffened and I felt the air leave my lungs in one short cry. My eyes rolled up into the back of head and I was greeted by an all consuming darkness.

My eyes blinked open and I was absolutely certain I was in some sort of clinic. It wasn't sterilized-smelling enough to be a hospital but I was still surrounded by a medical mix of glaring white and slate grey. My entire body _hurt_ as if someone had kicked the living shit out of me. My abdomen clenched and I fell into a coughing fit that only managed to increase the pain tenfold.

"What the hell happened?" I groaned as I straightened back out on my back and squinted against the fluorescent lighting. Slowly, I propped myself up against the wall behind me so that I could look around. The room I was in was small and cramped- kind of like a nurse's office of some sort. I looked down at myself. I was wearing the same outfit as this morning. My arms were bandaged up a bit but I couldn't remember what I had done to injure them.

The door off to my left opened up and a tall, lithe woman with short, curly auburn hair walked in with a clipboard in hand. Her metal-framed glasses were perched on the end of her hooked nose and her lips were pursed pensively.

"I see you're finally awake. Perhaps the crowd in the hall will finally disperse," she mused as she placed the clipboard on a counter.

"Where am I?" I asked, my voice coming out as a froggy croak. My throat felt ragged.

"You're in the my office. I'm Nurse Haskins," she pointed to the bronze name tag that was pinned on her white button up shirt. "Although, if I had had my way about it, you would be in the hospital."

"The hospital? What happened?" I wanted to moved but every small movement ached.

"You had a seizure during that whole 'Kate Marsh' episode. I didn't realize attempted suicide could be a trigger but, by all means-"

" _Attempted_ suicide?" I asked, trying to remember who Kate Marsh was and what I had been doing before the episode. There was a nagging feeling in the back of my brain telling me that something _important_ had happened.

"She was on the roof of the dormitory, prepared to jump. Some other girl got up there- Maxine I think her name was? Anyway, she talked the Marsh girl down. They hugged it out. I checked out Miss Marsh before she was taken to the hospital," Nurse Haskins informed me in a bored tone- as if students tried to kill themselves every day at this school. I made a mental note not to rely on this woman for sympathy...ever. "Now, I am required to ask you a few questions. Considering the fact that your episode lasted five minutes-"

"Five minutes!?" I exclaimed, bursting forward into an upright position. I immediately regretted the melodramatic reaction as my muscles protested.

"Four minutes and forty-eight seconds, to be exact," Nurse Empathy corrected. "Your sister, Alexandria-"

"Lex," I corrected without meaning to.

" _Miss Verde_ insisted that you would be fine and not to call 911. The faculty was frazzled enough with the Marsh incident that no one really felt like arguing with her.

"Where is my sister?" I asked.

"Out in the hall. Now, as for my questions-"

"I want to see my sister," I cut her off. I was feeling unreasonably agitated with this woman. She was just trying to do the routine questionnaire but all I could think was that I needed to see my sister. It was like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. I _needed_ Lex. "I _need_ to see her. Now."

"You can see her after I am done. There are just a few questions I need-"

"I need to see Lex," I insisted adamantly. My hands balled up into fists in my lap.

"Miss Verde, you need to calm down," Haskins ordered.

"I need to see my sister!" I screeched, my fists coming down on the cot I was sitting on with a loud 'thunk'.

"You need to _calm down_ ," the nurse edged towards me like a veterinarian approaching a scared animal and I went off.

"Lex!" I called out as I hopped off of the cot. My sore legs buckled under the sudden weight and I was only saved from a collision with the floor by Nurse Haskins fast reflexes. I could feel the fast rise and fall of my chest as panic set in. I couldn't think straight. All I could think of was Lex.

 _"Lex, Lex, Lex, Lex,"_ I mentally whispered her name over and over again to myself. The door to the nurse's office opened and I flung myself at the person in the doorway as soon as my brain registered her name. _"Lex."_

Something no one would ever understand is that Lex and I were two halves of one person. Where one baby was supposed to be in our mother's womb, she instead got two. Our entire existence since birth had been codependent. When everyone else left us- friends, boyfriends, family- we were still there. We always had been. As teenagers, of course we branched out and gained some independence but whenever things got overwhelming we could always seek reaffirmation in one another. Body issues? Same body. Identity crisis? We knew each other better than anyone. Boy trouble? Being identical twins paid off a few times on that front. After my episodes had started, we'd grown even closer. When your own mind is short circuiting, it's hard to feel grounded to reality. Lex reminded me of who I was. She kept me from being sucked in by the vortex of confusion and despondence that loomed around every corner.

And she was finally here.

"What are you doing up, Rio?" Lex chastised me. We'd sunk down to our knees, our arms wrapped tightly around one another and my forehead buried into her shoulder.

"I couldn't think, Lexie" I whispered, tears pricking my eyes as the panic finally wore off.

"Oh, Rio," Lex sighed, her hand coming up to comb through my hair soothingly. She pulled away from me and locked her gaze with mine. "Look at me. Breathe."

I stared at my sister's face- the one that so many people thought looked just like mine. There were subtle differences though. Lex had a few random freckles in the corner of her right eye and her chin was a little more pointed than mine. We'd spent years spotting the differences. Our eye color was the main difference. Hers were a brilliant mix of gold, amber, and brown with flecks of green if you looked close enough. Mine were slate grey- like the sky on a stormy day when the clouds were dense enough to block out the sun.

"Let's get you back on the cot, dumbass," Lex patted my cheek playfully and helped me to my feet. My arm wound around her shoulder and she walked me back over to the small cot that was tucked away against the wall. With some assistance, I seated myself back on the cot. Nurse Haskins was watching the whole ordeal with a snobbish pinch to her features.

"Thank you very much for your assistance, Alexandria, but-"

"But you have some questions?," Lex interrupted her, crossing her arms defiantly. "You can ask them with me here."

"Very well," the nurse assented begrudgingly, moving to close the door that had been left slightly ajar. She turned back to face us with a blank expression on her face. "Now, how long have you been experiencing these episodes?"

"About six months I guess," I shrugged.

"How long do they usually last?"

"Not long at all. A minute tops," I answered honestly.

"She had one really bad one. It was around the time she entered that photography contest. The one that got her the scholarship here," Lex put in. She looked at me, trying to get me to recall the incident. "Remember? You were telling me you didn't really want to enter the contest and then your eyes rolled up into the back of your head and you collapsed. You were out for almost ten minutes. We had to take you to the emergency room."

"It wasn't a big deal," I argued.

"The doctors didn't understand why but she was perfectly fine when she came to in the hospital. She even changed her mind about the contest- wanted to use her brain while it was still good for something," Lex continued, turning back to the nurse.

"I'm surprised you didn't suffer brain damage after a seizure of that length," Haskins scrutinized me with her olive green eyes.

"Look, can we move on to the next question?" I shifted in my seat from discomfort.

The questions went on for about ten or fifteen minutes before she reluctantly gave me the all clear to leave. Lex gave me some ibuprofen that I dry swallowed thankfully before we walked out into the hall. Three people were waiting out in the hall for us. My brain managed to recall their names with only a slight struggle: Max, Warren, and Daniel.

"Hey guys," I greeted them meekly.

"She lives!" Warren announced proudly.

"I'm really relieved to see you're okay, Rio," Daniel informed me.

"You scared the shit out of me," Max gasped as she rushed forward and wrapped her thin arms around me in a surprisingly strong hug. I hesitantly returned the gesture, my arms wrapping around her small frame.

"I'm sorry, Max," I whispered. "I don't know what happened. Honestly, I don't."

"You don't remember anything?" Max inquired, pulling away from me to look up at me with a questioning gaze.

"You wanna fill me in?" I asked hopefully.

"She usually gets her memory back bit by bit," Lex offered, coming to a stop beside us.

"I bet I'll get it back quicker with a snack," I hinted, my stomach grumbling.

"Come on, let's get you some grub before you waste away," Lex rolled her eyes. Our small group of people started heading down the hall and I soon recognized where we were in the school building. Once we made it outside, I looked up at the sky and felt my jaw drop.

"Holy shit," Lex mumbled.

"Is that a solar eclipse?" Daniel asked.

"Max, there wasn't an eclipse on the calendar. I would have known about it. I would have known," Warren insisted.

"There's something really ominous going on at Blackwell, you guys," Max stated.

"Nah shit, Sherlock," I breathed.


	5. Voices In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up between Rio and Max. Rio is abducted but left with little memory as to what happened to her.

Max and I went back to her room where we sat on her bed and she explained what had transpired up until and after my episode. We had been trying to get Kate Marsh off of the roof when I had somehow managed to stop time. My memory came back bit by bit as we talked. I could remember the feeling of threads of invisible wire wrapped around my fingers. I could remember the feeling of holding time in my grasp as if it were a tangible thing.

 _"Am I going insane?"_ I wondered as I stared down at my hands. This entire week was just turning into one big psycho shit fest. Every time I walked out of my room, something weird happened. _"Maybe I should just become a hermit."_

"So.. Lex told us about your seizures," Max prodded, nudging me with her shoulder as she took a seat next to me. She'd been tapping away at her laptop for an hour. I'd just been sitting on her bed, listening to her soft indie music drifting from the radio. I cast a glance down at Alice, Kate Marsh's bunny that was Max's temporary roommate. The bunny was munching happily on some carrots.

"Of course she did," I grumbled, running my hand through my hair as I collapsed onto my back and stared up at Max's ceiling.

"Was the one today because of...?," Max trailed off. I rolled my head to one side to look up at her.

"I can't be too sure. It's still...fuzzy," I admitted. "I remember laying on the ground. I was with Lex. Then...I'm not sure what triggered it. Something happened and it felt like something in me snapped."

"I tried to rewind time up on the roof. I was hoping that I could get Kate away from the edge. When I tried though, I couldn't. It _hurt_ ," Max informed me as she fell backwards onto her back next to me.

"Maybe...when I held back time the way I did," I turned onto my side and stared down at Max. She mimicked my position. "Maybe that's what prevented your rewind. Time had to catch up or something."

"It'd make sense I guess," Max pursed her lips thoughtfully. "So..you have time powers too?"

"I don't know. Yes? I did _something_ ," I answered honestly. I really wasn't sure how I had done it. I just knew that I'd felt something in the air and instinct had driven me from that point on. "I did something and time..."

"Froze," Max finished for me.

"Yea," I nodded. Max's phone buzzed and she reached across me to grab it off of her stereo. For the moment she was stretched over me, she smelled like something earthy and flowers and I felt my heart racing in my chest. My hand moved almost of its own accord and cupped Max's chin. I turned her face towards mine and the bemused grin on her face faded as her face relaxed in my hand. From this close, I could make out every freckle on her cheeks. My other hand reached up and brushed her soft brown hair out of her face.

 _"God, why is everything about her so soft?"_ I thought as I felt myself being drawn forward. I didn't really take time to consider what I was doing. Max's eyelids slid closed and I connected my lips to hers. As soon as my lips touched her soft pink ones, my eyes fluttered shut.

The kiss was sweet- Max tasted like maple syrup and honey against my lips. I soon found myself leaning into her with my hands sliding back to thread my fingers in her soft hair. I turned my body in towards hers and Max landed on her back on the bed beneath me. My lips moved against hers, pressing and sliding in synchronization. Her hesitant hands skimmed my sides and then fingered the hem of my shirt. I let out a startled breath at how cold her fingers were when they slipped under the fabric of my tank top and began exploring the flat surface of my stomach.

"Max," I whispered her name against her lips once I finally broke away. She hummed in response and I bent back down to continue the kiss her. One of my hands wandered down her neck and traced the slight curve of her small breast through her shirt before sliding down and gripping her waist.

My eyes opened halfway and I gazed down at her through my lashes. Her mouth was slightly ajar and her eyes were wide as saucers. I'd found myself above her, between her thin legs.

As I stared down at her, I finally realized what I had down and the position we were in.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry," I whispered, pulling away from her, grabbing my music player, and rushing out of the dorm.

I ran down the dark hall and through the exit, sprinting down the stairs until I made it to the final exit and broke out into the night air. The hairs on my arms rose as the chilly wind washed over me. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't followed, I took off at a light jog down the sidewalk and towards the main campus. I couldn't believe I had kissed Max.

"I don't even like Max that way. I can't," I whispered as I ran through the crisp autumn night. I finally slowed to a walk as I passed the school building- looking around for a place to go to clear my head. My feet set off in the direction of the road and I started walking alongside the road. My mind flashed back to Max's face underneath me- her hair splayed out against the pillow and her cheeks flushed as she gazed up at me.

"Why did I kiss her?" I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself as I walked. I remembered the feeling of Max's lips against my own and the natural smell of her near me. "Fuck. I _do_ like her."

I reached for my cellphone but my pockets turned up empty except for my photograph for the Everyday Heroes Contest that I hadn't been able to turn it yet and my music player. I pressed the photo back into my back pocket. An uneasy feeling crept up the back of my neck. Ignoring it, I took out my headphones and plugged them into my music player before pressing play.

The loud guitar riffs that filled my ears blocked out all other noise. At peace, I let the music enrapture me.

I guess that's why I didn't hear the car come up behind me a few minutes later or the driver climb out. The loud sound of Nirvana thrumming in my ears might have also been the reason I didn't hear the man walk up behind me. A hand covered my mouth and I felt a sharp prick as something pierced the side of my neck.

"Wha-" I gasped, my legs buckling out from underneath me as my vision started to blur. A pair of arms caught me from behind and I slid back into the embrace. A solid chest met my back and I fought to squirm against it. My head lolled back onto the person's shoulder and I felt something scratchy rub against my forehead.

"Shh, shh, shh. It's alright," a deep voice murmured into my ear as dark nothingness filled my vision.

* * *

I couldn't feel anything and yet everything hurt at the same time. My eyes felt like they were gorilla glued shut. There was something cold and hard underneath my side. A floor, maybe? It had to be a floor. So I was laying on my side on a floor? I tried to move but my wrists were bound together and so were my ankles. I tried to get my eyes to open but the harder I fought the heavier they seemed. I felt like I'd been drugged. This was all so _wrong_.

Despite my eyes being closed, I could tell that wherever I was had bright lighting. My eyelids were red from the brightness of the light pointed at my face and I could feel the warmth of the lights on my skin. It was the only warmth in the room but even it felt distant compared to the chill that clung to my bones.

"Ah... Perfect. Just like that," a voice whispered as someone's hand pushed my face slightly to the side and then a flash went off. My body flinched against the flash- a knee jerk reaction. This only managed to illicit a violent reaction from the speaker. "Don't. Move!"

A harsh pressure pushed down on my skull and my ears popped.

"Ah... Perfect. Just like that," the stranger repeated. Max must be somewhere reversing time. The flash went off again and my body jolted. "Don't. Move!"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled," the voice mumbled soothingly as the person reached down and caressed the side of my face. There was a latex, rubbery feel to their fingers. I wanted to move away from their touch- something about it made my skin crawl and my stomach knot up.

"I..," I struggled to speak.

"No, shh, shh. Don't speak," the voice commanded. A finger pressed against my lips to silence me. "Good girl. I knew you were going to be special."

"We're going to make beautiful art together, Rio." The finger left and so did the presence I had felt next to me. I heard the sound of footsteps and struggled to open my eyes as they approached. "It's a shame you won't remember this."

The same pressure I had come to recognize as Max rewinding time pressed down on my skull again. I let out a pained groan once it finally released.

"No, shh, shh. Don't speak," the voice commanded me again- now right next to me. One of its supposedly gloved fingers touched my lips to silence me. I let out a small whimper. It was the most sound I could muster. "You shouldn't even be awake yet. The dose I gave you should have lasted for at least another half hour."

Dose? So I was drugged? Max must have been rewinding time while I was knocked out. That's why I was waking up earlier than expected.

"No worries. There's plenty where that came from," the voice informed me. They were much closer now- their breath on my neck as they spoke. I wanted to squirm away but I couldn't will my body to move. "We're going to make beautiful art together, Rio."

That phrase made me even more nauseous the second time. This asshole knew my name- knew _me_ \- and I couldn't place their voice for the life of me, literally.

My eyelids were finally starting to raise when I felt someone straddle my hip. Panic crept up my throat and I fought hard to move. A hand came down and pressed my head back against the cold floor.

 _"No, no, no, no,"_ I tried to break out of his grasp but my body was too bogged down by the drugs still running through my system. All of my movements were sluggish and virtually useless. However, my eyes had finally managed to open into thin slits and I could barely make out the haze shape of a black couch. _"Where am I?"_

"Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit," he- I was sure now it was a man despite not being able to see him- assured me as I felt a pressure on the side of my neck. Something broke through the skin and my vision went dark.

_"I'm going to die."_

* * *

There was sunlight- lots of sunlight- blinding me when I finally came to. My eyes peeled open and I rolled my shoulders and took a moment to take in my surroundings. I was sitting on a bench out in front of Blackwell Academy. My head was pulsing and I couldn't figure out what was wrong but I knew _something_ was wrong. If only I could remember _what_.

Groaning, I pulled myself up off of the bench and stood up. I searched my pockets for my phone and was reminded of its absence. My music player was gone as well. Only my photo remained. I started my trek towards the dorms to retrieve my phone as I tried to reconnect the dots on how I had made it back to campus. The last thing I could clearly remember was kissing Max and running away.

 _"Shit, Max,"_ I thought, running a hand through my hair.

The walk back to my dorm as the sun rose on the horizon was uneventful. No one was out and about at this hour besides the birds. I stopped by Max's room. The door was unlocked but she was nowhere to be found. Waltzing inside, I located my phone and the rest of my things and gathered them together. Booty in hand, I finally made it back to my room and fell onto my bed, resting my aching legs and tossing my shit onto the floor. Only my phone remained in my hand. I checked it out and saw multiple missed messages- mostly from Max. There were also quite a few missed calls from Lex.

**Where did you go? -Max**

**You left your cell here. Shit. -Max**

**You weren't in your room. Or at least you didn't answer when I knocked. I guess you'll see these when you get back. -Max**

**Chloe texted me. She has a surprise for me? Text me when you get back to the room. I'm leaving it unlocked. -Max**

**Victoria is on the prowl. Keep an eye out. I have a bad feeling. -Max**

**Hey. Are you back yet? -Max**

**How do you open a door with a super badass lock on it? -Max**

**I think Warren just gave me instructions on making a bomb. -Max**

**Oh my god Max do not make a fucking bomb. -Me**

It had been several hours since she'd sent the text about the ingenious bomb plan, but I couldn't help hoping she hadn't gone through with it.

I peeled off my clothes- they felt grimy and disgusting- and changed into my pajamas. Then I checked my other messages.

**Hey, I'm worried about my little sis. You okay? -Lex**

_"Pss. Little by three minutes,"_ I mentally snorted.

**I still haven't heard from you. You okay? -Lex**

**Max just came by my room asking about you? Where are you? -Lex**

**Rio. Text me back. Right. Now. -Lex**

That one was from about half an hour ago. Another message from Lex lit up my phone.

**I've been having bad vibes all night and you're not answering your phone. Call me. Text me. Telepathy. Something. -Lex**

**Calm down. I'm okay. I just went for a walk. I'm back in my room now. -Me**

**You went for a walk? In the middle of the night? By yourself? And you just got back? -Lex**

**Yes. Yep. Mhm. Apparently, yes. I needed some fresh air and ended up ptfo'd on a bench. No biggie. Take a chill pill. -Me**

**Are you sure you're okay? -Lex**

**Why wouldn't I be? -Me**

**I felt like something really bad had happened to you. -Lex**

**My twin senses were tingling like crazy. -Lex**

I looked down at my body. My pajama shorts exposed my legs and my thin tank top left my arms bare as well. No bruises that I could see. No marks at all, really- even my scrapes had healed up significantly well.

**Nothing bad happened or is going to happen to me Lex. Okay? -Me**

**Okay. -Lex**

I left that at that and moved on to the next message.

**Max was asking me if I'd heard from you? -Warren**

**Long story. To keep it short, I took a walk and left my phone. -Me**

I set my phone down on my bed and reached up to rub my neck. When I did so, I felt something that shouldn't be there. A bump or something? Startled, I hopped off of my bed and moved over to the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, but I looked like I'd been drained of color. Pale and tired, my face held chilling similarities to Kate Marsh's. I craned my neck so that I could see the spot I'd felt and found a small, barely noticeable hole in the side of my neck.

My blood ran cold. Where the hell did this come from? I tried to wrack my brain but all of the details of what had happened on my walk were blurry and distant. All I could remember was a cold floor beneath me and darkness. So much darkness.

"What the hell happened to me on that walk?" I whispered, fingering the mark on my neck. I felt sick to my stomach. Clutching my abdomen, I fled from my room and into the hall. I rushed into the bathroom and found myself bent over a toilet, heaving up everything I had eaten throughout the day. My mind was reeling as I tried to piece together what had happened to me. "Calm down, Rio. It was just a nightmare. Maybe you got stung by something. The dark room was a nightmare."

I repeated that mantra to myself even as I buried myself underneath my covers. The dark room was a nightmare. The dark room was a nightmare. The dark room was a nightmare.

_"We're going to make beautiful art together, Rio."_


	6. When Time Is Altered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rio has to deal with the consequences of Max altering the timeline.

**TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of self harm, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, assault, etc. If any of this bothers you, feel free to skim and continue reading in the next chapter.**

* * *

 

Gloved hands wrapped around my neck, fingers digging into my skin with inhumane pressure. I struggled against it, my hands reaching up and clawing at the arm. I couldn't see anything and all of my movements felt sloth-like. My body felt unbelievably heavy and I couldn't breath because of the hands clenched around my throat.

"Ah... Perfect. Just like that," a deep, ominous voice purred from above me. I clawed at his hands and their grip grew stronger. A strangled gasp left me and my body arched upwards and into the body of the person pinning me. "Don't. Move!"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled," he mused, his grip lessening. His hands slid up to my face and curled around to frame it.

"Pl-ea-ss-e. Le-e-et me-ee g-g-o," I choked out.

"No, shh, shh. Don't speak," he commanded. There was a sick feeling of deja vu in the air. I was taking in harsh gulps of air in, thankful that the pressure on my aching throat was gone. The hands moved up into my hair and the fingers tangled in it. He yanked and I cried out. "Good girl. I knew you were going to be special."

"We're going to make beautiful art together, Rio," he whispered. All of these words felt like something off of a script. A pair of lips came down on my own roughly, forcing mine apart as he hungrily kissed me. It was nothing like the sweeter, gentler kiss I'd shared with Max. This kiss was merciless and bruising. He tasted like I imagined fire would taste and when his hands moved down to roam my body it was like hell.

Everything was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. I fought against him as hard as I could. His hands went down to my pants and I could feel the pressure of his knuckles against me as he unbuttoned them. He worked my pants down my legs and off of me, his nails scratching my skin as he went. Then he moved up and I felt his breath against my ear.

"Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit."

"Ah!" I screamed as I jolted up in bed. Sunlight streamed through my window. Chills ran up my spine as I tried to forget the dream. I felt grimy and disgusting. I guess today was as good a day as any to take a shower. Climbing out of bed, I grabbed my basket of shower supplies out of my closet and exited my room. Brooke was milling about in the hall but, besides her, it seemed pretty empty. I walked down to the showers and picked out the middle stall. I put my stuff off to the side and turned the water on the hottest setting. It scorched my skin but I could barely feel it. I reached over for my shampoo once my hair was wet, squeezing some into my hand.

"We're going to make beautiful art together, Rio."

The bottle fell from my hand with a loud crash. My hands flew up to shield my face and I collapsed onto my knees. Water ran over my face and my hair curled around my throat. I pulled and clawed at the strands, shoving them out of the way. I couldn't breathe. It felt like I was choking. The walls of the stall were closing in and the heat from the steam was overbearing.

"It was just a nightmare. God damn it," I growled, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. Redirecting my attention to cleaning myself up, I opened my eyes and grabbed the shampoo bottle off of the ground. Standing back on my feet, I squeezed some more into my hand and put the bottle back with my things before reaching up and kneading the shampoo into my hair.

"Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit."

"God damn it!" I cursed as soap ran into my eye. Scrubbing viciously with my hand, I tried to get the stinging soap out. Once I'd gotten it out, I returned to washing the shampoo out of my hair. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

Once my shower was over and I smelled like coconut, I slipped in to the clothes I'd brought with me. It was a pair of slim fitting, high waisted plum skinny jeans, some black high top converse, and a crop sweater that had "Aztec" print on it. Dressed, I exited the bathroom and went back to my room to drop off my thing and grab my phone.

"Missed a text from Max," I mumbled as I unlocked the screen.

Hey. Can you come over? I think I may have totally pissed off Chloe. -Max

Sure. Two parsecs. -Me

I pocketed my phone and reached over to grab my wallet before leaving my room and heading over to Max's. I wrapped my knuckles on her door, tapping my foot on the floor as I waited for her to open up. Impatient, I reached for the door knob and my hand had barely touched it when my vision was filled with a blinding white light.

My eyes opened and I was greeted by the ceiling of my old bedroom and heavy metal blasting from my stereo. What was I doing back at home? I looked around my bedroom. It looked completely different from how I remembered. Where there were once thousands of band and geeky posters plastered on the wall, there were now morbid portraits and sayings. My full length mirror on my closet door was shattered- a spiderweb crack breaking up the dirty glass. I slipped off of my bed. Even my comforter set was morbid.

I ran my hand through my hair but it stopped much shorter than expected. Startled, I ran across the room and scrutinized my reflection in the broken mirror. I looked freakishly pale- my skin was the color of milk almost. My hair was a short crimson pixie cut with bangs that fell in my eyes. Speaking of my eyes...

"Am I wearing a contact?" I held my bangs back to look at my eyes. My right eye was still slate grey as usual but the left one was hazel- like Lex's. "I don't even know how to put in contacts."

I tried to reach up and touch the contact on my left eye but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Resigning myself to my weird artificial heterochromia, I walked over to my stereo and turned off the loud music.

"What even is this band?" I muttered, popping up the CD thing and taking a look at the band. "Escape the Fate? I've never heard of this. Ever."

My arms itched and I started scratching at them. Looking down, I let out a startled gasp when I saw the thin white line that went horizontally from wrist to the crook of my elbow. Some of them looked old and faded but others looked freshers and ragged. Both of my forearms had one long, faint line that ran through all of the horizontal ones. A chill ran down my spine as I realized what this meant.

"I tried to kill myself?" I gasped, running my fingers along the scars. I reached down to my pants- black, like the shirt I was wearing- and unbuttoned them. Yanking them down to my knees, I examined the long scars on my inner thighs. "Self harm, really? I never..."

"Lexie, what are you doing?!" I exclaimed as I burst into the bathroom and found my sister on the bathroom floor with a razor to her wrist. It was one of our dad's old fashioned ones- like something out of Sweeney Todd. I wrenched it out of her hand and stared at her incredulously. Tears were streaming down her face. I looked down at her wrists and saw two lines on the left and one line on the right. Bloods ran from the fresh wounds. My heart broke in my chest and I let out a sob. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Rio. Please give it back to me," Lex begged. I shook my head from side to side viciously. Then I took the razor and pressed it against my wrist. Dragging it across the skin, I let out a hiss as blood beaded up in its wake. Lex reached out and grabbed my hands to stop me and I shook her off. "Rio, what are you doing!?"

"We bear the same scars. Always have, always will," I swore, dragging another line across my left wrist and then placing the razor in my left hand and pressing it against my right. "Always."

"You don't need to do this," Lex whimpered. I cut the line across my right wrist. Finished, I present my forearms lined up next to hers.

"Whenever you hurt yourself, you hurt me," I whispered.

I looked back down at my forearms. This was more than a dozen lines whereas after those three Lex and I had never touched a razor to our wrists again.

"So why am I covered in scars?" I pondered as I walked over to my closet and dug out a long sleeve shirt. "Why is my wardrobe all black and grey? What happened to my colors?"

Confused, I slipped on the plain black shirt I'd found and walked out of my bedroom.

"This is super fucking weird," I thought as I walked to the room next to mine.

"Lex?" I called out. If I was back here, surely Lex was here too. "Lex, let me in."

No one answered so I opened the door. Lex's room was completely bare- the only contents were piles of boxes. I went up to one of the boxes and opened it, blowing off dust and digging around inside. A bad feeling had settled in my gut. When I found a photo of Lex and I at the county fair from three years ago, I knew something was definitely wrong. If Lex had moved out or something, she would have taken her photos with her.

"Mom?!" I called out, hoping that this wasn't some weird nightmare. Or maybe I was hoping that it was a nightmare and that I would wake up soon. It felt really weird though. Footsteps bounded up the steps and then my mom was in the doorway to Lex's room.

She looked much older than I remembered. Her dark brown hair was paler with streaks of grey and silver in it. Her hazel eyes had crows feet in the corners and there were worry lines in her forehead. She seemed hunched over like she didn't have the energy to hold herself upright anymore and she was holding a pitcher of tea in one hand.

"What's wrong, hon?" my mom asked. She looked startlingly fragile and a frail voice to match.

"Where's Lex?" I inquired. Her eyebrows furrowed together.

"What would make you ask a question like that?" she prodded.

"All of her things are in boxes," I stated plainly. "I was wondering where she was. I wanted to talk to her about something."

I rubbed my arms subconsciously. My mom spotted the movement and frowned.

"You aren't..hurting yourself again, are you?" Mom asked. I immediately went ramrod straight and dropped my arms to my side.

"No," I replied. My mother let out a sigh of relief and set down the pitcher on the floor. My mom rushed forward to wrap her arms around me. I was surprised by the sudden embrace but allowed it. She smelled like cinnamon and her perfumer- an interesting combination. "Mom. Where's Lex?"

"Now, Rio," my mother pulled away and looked down at me. She was always a bit taller than me. Her hands rubbed up and down my arms comfortingly but I didn't feel comforted. "You know Alexandria isn't here."

"Where is she?" I pressed.

"She's dead, sweetie," my mom's voice broke and tears pricked her hazel eyes- hazel eyes like Lex's. In that moment, I felt my whole world shatter around me. Lex was dead? How could Lex be dead? I couldn't wrap my mind around the idea of Lex not being alive.

"Lex isn't dead. I just saw her yesterday," I insisted. My mother shook her head and looked at my pityingly.

"Your sister passed away in a car accident a long time ago. You know that, Rio. You were on the phone with her when it happened. She got in a collision with some girl driving a red truck. Price, I think her name was? That poor family. Girl was paralyzed in the accident but your sister..," my mother trailed off and a tear slid from the corner of her eye down to her chin.

"Price? Chloe Price?" I edged.

"I think that was her name. It's been almost two years, Rio," my mother informed me.

"Lex died two years ago?" I felt my voice break as I spoke and my legs struggled to hold my weight. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I couldn't understand how all of this had happened. I had just been standing outside of Max's dorm. Now I was back in my childhood home with my mom and my sister was dead. I patted my pockets down and found my phone, pulling it out and searching for Max's number. My Contacts list was completely different.

"Who the hell are these people? Where are Max and Daniel?" I wondered.

"Are you okay, hon?" my mom asked. I shook off her grasp and took a step back.

"I.. I need to go," I told her, brushing by her and heading out into the hall and down the steps. My mother followed after me. At the bottom of the stairs, I found a black trench coat that looked like it was my size on the coat rack. I took it off the hook and slipped it on then headed over to the key post. A label was over a set of worn keys with my name on it.

"Hey. At least I get my car back," I mused. It didn't make the hole in my chest any less unbearable. "I have to find Max. Maybe she'll know what's going on."

"Rio, where are you going?" my mom asked in a concerned tone. "You seem unwell. I don't think you should be driving anywhere."

"I need to go. I'm meeting up with a friend of mine. Her name's Max. You'd like her. She's a total sweetie," I wrapped my arms around my mother and kissed her softly on the cheek before turning and walking out the door.

"Be safe!" my mom called after me.

I found my old blue '97 Camaro waiting in the driveway for me. I could still remember when it broke down on the side of the road during Lex and I's road trip that we took to celebrate our 17th birthday. I guess, since she'd died, I'd never taken that trip. That meant the car never had to try to brave Death Valley on a failing transmission. If this reality was anything like my original one, my wallet would be in the glove box.

I unlocked the door and climbed into the car, reaching across and opening up the compartment. My wallet was right where I expected it to be. A small, sad smile pulled up at the corners of my lips. Closing the compartment, I buckled myself up and turned my key in the ignition.

"Well thank you me," I muttered as I looked at the gas hand. Apparently, I'd filled old Delilah up last time I'd driven her. "Arcadia Bay, here I come."

It took about an hour and a half of driving- speeding- to reach Arcadia Bay. Once I was back in the semi familiar landscape, I drove straight to Blackwell Academy. Swerving into the parking lot, I left my car parked crookedly in the first available spot I could find and clambered out without bothering to lock it up. I had my wallet and my phone. There was nothing else valuable in that vehicle. Besides, if I could figure out what had happened to change the course of time like this then it wouldn't matter if I'd left my car for some high as balls teenager to jack.

I took off at a sprint across campus until I reached the main building. Victoria and the rest of her little club were sitting around on the grass outside. I went to pass them when I picked up a piece of what she was saying.

"I can't believe Max would just take off like that," Victoria stated. "She still hasn't texted me back."

"It's not like her," Taylor agreed.

"We never should have let her into the Vortex Club," Courtney sneered.

"Did I hear you guys say Max Caulfield left?" I asked, stopping next to the group of teenagers. Several pairs of eyes went to me. Victoria made a face at me.

"Who are you?" she asked in a snobby tone. I did my best to bury the hostility that threatened to boil over. I really did not have the patience for Victoria Chase right now. She was scrutinizing me- the same way she had on that first day. "Emo freak."

"Where the fuck is Max?" I growled.

"What do you want with Maxine?" Victoria asked. "Are you on something?"

"I'm having a really bad day, Victoria. You really want to tell me where Max went. Now," I glowered at the girl.

"How do you know my name, freak?" Victoria inquired. I rolled my eyes at her.

"I am so not in the mood," I huffed.

"Can I help you, bitch?" Nathan Prescott came up from behind me and turned me around.

"No. The last thing I need is Daddy's Boy breathing down my neck," I hissed at him, turning back towards Victoria. "Now-"

"Who do you think you are?" Nathan turned me around to face him, anger burning in his eyes. I took a threatening step towards him, balling my hands into fists.

"I think I am not someone you want to piss off," I informed him in a low growl.

"Max went to the art room!" Taylor cut in. I turned to her with a raised brow. "Mr. Jefferson's class. She said she wanted to talk to him about her photo for the contest."

"Now was that so hard?" I asked, pushing past Nathan and heading towards the front doors of Blackwell Academy. I got inside and headed towards Mr. Jefferson's classroom. I got inside and found the room completely empty. "Lying motherfucker."

"You talk a lot of shit for some nobody," Nathan Prescott stated as he walked into the room. I wheeled around to face him. I couldn't believe the asshole had actually followed me. He closed in on me, shutting the door behind him, with a dark look in his eyes.

"Back the fuck up, Nathan Prescott," I ordered, backing into Jefferson's desk. Nathan kept charging forward, rage alive in his eyes.

"If you know my name then you know my family owns this town," Nathan assumed.

"I know you're a psychotic asshole that really needs some serious medication," I responded. Nathan rushed forward and rammed into me, shoving me back onto the desk. His forearm pressed into my throat, cutting off my airway. I reached up and clawed at his arm in an effort to get him to get off of me. He'd placed himself between my legs so kneeing him in the crotch wasn't an option.

"You don't even know me. You don't know anything about me," Nathan roared. I managed to pull his arm away from my neck a fraction of an inch but an angry Nathan was a lot stronger than a messed up me. And today had me really messed up so far.

"Mr. Prescott," Mr. Jefferson's voice boomed through the room as the door opened. Nathan froze up and then pulled away from me as if he'd had ice water poured down his back. I took in a large gasp of air. Coughing, I pulled myself up from the desk and ended up sinking to my knees. Using it for support, I leaned back against Mr. Jefferson's desk. "Don't you have a party to be planning?"

"Yes, Mr. Jefferson," Nathan mumbled, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. Mr. Jefferson walked up to me and knelt in front of me. His eyes scanned my face but there was no recognition in his gaze.

"Are you alright miss?" he asked. I nodded but I could feel tears escaping and running down my cheeks. It was all too much. Everything was so different. "What's wrong?"

"Everything," I gasped out. "Everything is wrong. Max is friends with Victoria. Lex is dead. It's all so wrong."

"And I keep having nightmares about this dark room?" I buried my head in my hands.

"A dark room?" Mr. Jefferson asked. There was a small change in his voice- one that I almost didn't notice. I wiped my eyes and looked back up at him. His gaze was so intense it almost scared me.

"I wake up there and I can't move. My wrists and ankles are bound and I feel like I've been drugged or something. There's a man there and he...," I broke off, unable to continue. It was just a nightmare anyway. I didn't know why I was telling Jefferson about it.

"A man? What did he look like?" Jefferson pressed.

"I don't know. I just.. I need to find Max," I pulled myself up onto my feet and left the room. I walked back out into the plaza and started off towards the dorms. I got several weird looks on the way but once I made it up to the second floor there was no one around to look at me. Max's room was in front of me before I knew it and I was opening her door with a quick twist of the knob.

Her room was empty. It looked different from how it had just last night. It looked girly- preppier. I set about digging through her things like a snoop trying to find something with a hint as to where she went or her phone number scrawled on it. Half an hour later and my search seemed to be in vain when I found a post it note with her cell number scrawled across the top. I dialed it into my phone and pressed Call.

"Come on, Max. Answer," I begged. My call went to voicemail and I groaned.

"Hey Max, it's Rio. I don't know what the hell is going on. Lex.. Lex is DEAD. Nothing is right. Please, call me when you get this." I left a message and hung up just as Max's bedroom door opened behind me. I turned to look at the person entering but a gloved hand covered my eyes. I felt a pinch on the side of my neck and all of strength in my limbs left me. "Wha-?

"Shh. Don't try to talk," a vaguely familiar voice commanded. I felt myself being lifted into someone's arms as the hand pulled away. My vision was completely blurred.

"Who?" I struggled to talk.

"Shh," he repeated. My head lolled back and I was consumed by darkness.

There was dark, damp earth underneath my fingertips when I awoke. I wouldn't really call it awakening though. I still felt like there were weights tied to my limbs. Looking around, I spotted headlights several feet away.

"H-hello?" I croaked, trying to move. A figure appeared silhouetted in the light from the headlights. My vision was still blurry and it was dark so I couldn't distinguish the person's figures. They approached me, earth crunching under their feet until they were standing over me. "Can you...Can you help me? I think...I've been drugged."

The person didn't respond. I eyes the dark blob in their hand. I made out the shape of the needle too late as the man crouched next to me and pressed the needle into my neck. I cried out but the drugs went to work quickly. I felt my body grow even headier as the darkness started to creep in again. All I could think about was Max getting my voicemail too late and Lex. Lex- my sister that was dead in this reality, in this nightmare.

My assailant's face loomed over mine for just a moment before my vision gave way to the dark nothingness that I felt beckoning me.

"I know you," I thought just as all of my thoughts slipped away and I was dragged into the darkness.


	7. Things Were Said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rio blows up at Max, angered by her reckless manipulation of the timeline. She turns in her photo to Mr. Jefferson and proceeds to help Max and Chloe with their investigation.

My eyes opened and I was in front of Max's dorm door with my hand on the handle. My legs gave out from underneath me and I collapsed against the door. I didn't hear movement on the other side but I couldn't shake the awful feeling in my bones. Memories from that alternate reality were still fresh in my mind and I felt my stomach churning.

 _"I died,"_ I realized. Someone had killed me in that other reality. _"Why?"_

Nothing made any sense. I felt tears build up in my eyes. My phone went off in my pocket and I pulled it out to answer.

"Hello?"

"Rio?" Max asked hesitantly.

"Max? What's up?" a female voice chirped. "Who're you chatting?"

"Her name's Rio," Max informed the girl. Was this Chloe? It had to be. Chloe Price. The girl that had killed my sister in another reality- or had I killed my sister by distracting her on the phone and Chloe had just been a casualty? Max returned her attention to me. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I...Lex was dead, Max. She was dead. And..and...I couldn't find you. I came to your room and-" I broke off as a sob tore itself from my body. "I died, Max. Someone _killed_ me. They put me down like a rabid _animal_."

"That sounds like a wicked nightmare," Chloe commented uneasily.

"Hey, Chloe can you give us a sec?" Max asked. Struggling to my feet, I walked around the corner to where my room was. "Okay. We'll talk in the hallway then."

I heard a door open and close on the other end of the call.

"Alright, I went into Joyce's room. We should be free to talk now," Max informed me.

"It wasn't a nightmare, Max. It was _real_ ," I insisted. My knees were quaking underneath me. I was still trying to shake off the cold, clammy feeling of death that stuck to my skin.

"So you experienced that fucked up alternate universe shit too?" Max assumed. I nodded, glad that Max wasn't just writing me off as a loon. It didn't really occur to me that she couldn't see me nod through the phone. "It's my fault. I went back in time through a photograph Chloe's dad took when we were kids. It was the day he died. I..I saved him."

"You saved him and it caused a chain reaction of shit that altered the course of time," I ground out.

"I didn't know that it was going to cause so much more suffering..," Max assured me. I could hear the pain and regret in her voice. It was like a storm was raging inside the petite girl. "Chloe was paralyzed when I found her. Her respiratory system was _failing_ and she asked me to kill her. It was awful."

"That was awful? My sister was _dead_ in the same accident that paralyzed your _precious_ Chloe," I snapped at her. Max was probably taken aback by my outburst but I couldn't hold back the anger. I was so tired and every time Max used her power things just got harder and harder. "I was murdered, Max."

"I'm so sorry, Rio. I went back and fixed it. I swear I never would have done it if I had known what was going to happen," Max insisted.

"That's just it, Max. You never _know_ what's going to happen when you use your power. You just keep _winging_ it and hoping it all works out. You think you know what's best for the universe but you _don't_ ," I ran my free hand through my now long again black hair. "There's a killer loose in Arcadia Bay- or at least someone willing to kill. I'm scared, Max."

"I'm scared too. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I tried to call you after I got your voicemail, but you never answered. I should have known something was wrong and gone looking for you," Max reasoned.

"No, it's not your fault, Max. I just...I want to find the guy who killed me," I told her.

"Chloe and I are investigating that missing girl, Rachel Amber, and the incident with Kate getting drugged," Max informed me. "We think they're related."

"If someone is drugging girls around Blackwell, then he's the same guy that overdosed me, Max," I deduced.

"I'm heading back to the dorm. We need Nathan's phone. I just need to take care of some things around here first and go see Kate," Max offered. I hung up and headed over to my sister's room. I knocked on the door just as Max's text came through. Lex opened up the door and I nearly broke down just seeing her. My arms wrapped around my sister and I crushed her against me.

"Woah there. What's wrong?" Lex asked.

"Nothing is wrong. You're alive," I whispered, burying my face into her shoulder.

"Of course I'm alive. I don't take midnight walks like _some_ people," Lex reminded me as she pulled away just enough to look me in the eye. "Are you sure nothing is wrong? You look like the walking dead."

"If only you knew how true that was," I muttered under my breath.

"What?" Lex asked, her eyebrows furrowing. Thank God, she hadn't heard me.

"I said 'nothing's wrong, just a little tired'," I lied.

"Then go to bed. You had a rough day yesterday," Lex ushered me out of the room. "We all did. Go take a breather"

I wanted to tell her all about everything I had seen. Lex and I never kept huge secrets like this from one another. My mind strayed to the mysterious mark on my neck and my alternate reality murder. I couldn't put Lex in harm's way. I wouldn't. I bid my sister farewell and walked into my room to grab some things. I grabbed my bag, shoving my camera and a notebook in there. I searched around until I eventually found a pair of scissors- the only "weapon" I had in my dorm room. I shoved them into the belt loop of my jeans. My Everyday Heroes photo was on my desk, beckoning me. I snatched it up, hoping it wasn't too late to turn it in.

My phone went off in my pocket. Max was back at Blackwell and heading towards the dorms. I rushed out of my room and down the hall, running down the stairs until I got outside. Once I got outside, I shielded myself from the bright sunlight and looked from side to side. I spotted Max and the blue haired girl- Chloe- talking to Mr. Jefferson. Photo in hand, I waltzed over to them. I came to a stop next to Mr. Jefferson and in front of Chloe, watching as she sized me up.

"Hey guys," I greeted nonchalantly. Max's face lit up when she saw me. I turned my gaze on Chloe. "You must be Chloe. Max mentioned you."

"This is Rio," Max introduced me. Chloe's eyes scanned me up and down. I took a moment to take in my own appearance. I was still wearing the plum high waisted pants and crop sweater. Neat.

"Oh cool," Chloe nodded. There was something resigned about her attitude towards me but I chose to ignore it.

"Ah, yet another student I so very much hoped to get a photo from," Jefferson interjected his way into the conversation. His voice made goosebumps run across my skin and I felt nauseous. I tried to brush off the seemingly irrational feeling. I turned to face him and looked up into his almost black eyes. There was something dark inside of them- something I hadn't seen in his gaze before. "Now I know you just started here on Monday so I was going to see if you wanted to submit one-"

"I actually have mine right here," I produced the photo. Jefferson almost snatched the photo from my hand. "I took it on Tuesday but with everything that happened with Church Girl and all that.."

"Oo, can I see it?" Max tried to crane her neck to get a view at the photo in his hand without getting too close. I watched expectantly as Jefferson's eyes raked over the photo.

"It's not my best, by any means, but it's good," I admitted.

"Woah. That photo is..amazing, Rio. You're a great photographer," Max acknowledged. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks at her praise.

"Thank you, Max. That means a lot from you," I smiled softly at her as her eyes came up to meet mine. I remembered the feeling of her soft lips against my own and the blush on my cheeks deepened.

"This is an excellent photo, Rio," Mr. Jefferson commented without tearing his eyes from the photo.

"I call it "Lady Death"," I informed him, returning my attention to the photography professor. He looked up at me and arched a black eyebrow at my name choice. "My sister modeled for the photo. I used a low saturation filter on the image to drain it of most of its color."

"Any particular reason you chose 'Death' as your subject?" he inquired. I leaned over a bit and looked at the photo. Lex was standing amongst rows upon rows of crumbling tombstones with her left side to the camera. Her head was held high but her face was obscured by a black lace veil. The dress she was wearing was almost see though except for the black slip underneath. One of her hands was posed on a headstone and the other one was delicately wrapped around a blood red rose that looked almost black in the photo. The photo had a real Gothic theme to it in some places that allowed for an excellent contrast between light and dark in the image.

"That's a good question," I acknowledged, making eye contact with him. I felt as if I could trip and fall into the black vortex of his irises at any moment, but I managed to tear my gaze away and face the girls. "Anyway, places to go, people to do- I mean see. Right Max?"

I gave off a little wink towards Max. If anyone remembers anything about me, let it be that I had quite the flair for dramatics.

"Right, well, Blackwell duty calls," Mr. Jefferson informed us. "I do hope you will all three be attending the party tonight. I'll be announcing the winner of the contest, after all."

"I'll definitely be there," Max promised. Chloe crossed her arms and leaned against Max.

"Me too. I'll be Max's date. You better dance with us," Chloe flirted. Max's cheeks turned a rosy shade and I felt a little green monster rearing up inside of me.

"No one needs to see this old hipster dance," Jefferson shook his head.

"I don't know, I might," I put in my two cents, pretending to look Jefferson up and down appreciatively. It achieved the desired effect- Max's blush was gone and her mouth was now pulled down at the corners in a frown. I decided to push the envelope a little more. "If I win the contest, you save a dance for me."

Mr. Jefferson looked genuinely surprised by my comment but quickly covered it up with a deep chuckle.

"We'll see. I have some pride. See you guys tonight," Jefferson's eyes lingered on my own for a moment longer before he nodded a farewell to the others and left. Chloe was raising an amused eyebrow at me when I turned my gaze on her.

"What?" I asked. "He's hot- for an older guy."

"Hell yea he is!" Chloe agreed, holding out her hand for a high five. I slapped my hand against hers.

"Gross! You two are out of control," Max scowled at us.

"Not yet. Just wait until the rager tonight," Chloe commented with a sly grin.

"Shut up," Max grumbled halfheartedly.

"You're just mad because Mark Jefferson thinks I'm cool and wants to jump Rio's bones," Chloe stuck her tongue out at Max childishly.

"Whatever," Max waved her off.

"Since I'm here, I'm going to go see what dirt I can get from Justin. I haven't seen him in awhile," Chloe decided.

"Sounds like a good idea. Rio and I will figure out if Nathan is around," Max replied. I watched her face carefully. She's slip a happy mask into place but I could see that she was still bothered underneath. Chloe nodded and walked off on her own to find Justin. I turned to Max.

"Max-"

"I'll go see if Samuel has seen Nathan," Max stated. She brushed by me.

"And then there was one," I muttered. I was pretty sure I'd seen Daniel around moping by a tree. Maybe he'd have some beans to spill about Prescott's whereabouts. I walked over to the tree I'd see him lingering under and, sure enough, I found him sitting on the ground there.

"Hey Daniel," I greeted, crouching on the ground in front of him. "You look like shit. What's wrong?"

"Oh, hey Rio. I haven't seen you much since the other day," Daniel stated as his eyes took in my sudden presence in front of him. "I was just thinking..my photos are shit. I'm a wanna be artist."

"A wanna be artist? Daniel, you're sketches are some of the best I've ever seen and you haven't even hit your renaissance yet. You came to this school to draw, not point and click a camera. _That_ is your art," I assured him. Daniel smiled softly at me.

"You're right. Thanks Rio. You made me feel a lot better," Daniel informed me.

"Any time, bro," I reached forward and patted him on the shoulder. "Any who, are you going to that party tonight?"

"The End of the World party? It really _would_ be the end of the world if I went," Daniel shook his head with a frown. "You saw it on your first day here. People at this school push me into lockers not dance floors."

"All the more reason you should go and save a dance for me. We'll show those assholes how to really live it up," I promised him. Daniel's frown transformed into a grin. "You with me?"

"With you backing me up, Rio, yes! I shall go. Well..maybe not. Maybe I will..no I won't do that. Okay I will go," Daniel made up his mind.

"Awesome opossum," I smiled. "So, have you seen Nathan Prescott trolling around campus?"

"Nathan? I heard a rumor that he finally got suspended. If it's true, that would explain why I saw him leaving campus looking pissed off a few moments ago," Daniel informed me. I took the information and said goodbye to Daniel, turning to go find Max and Chloe. Chloe was talking to some stoned looking skater bro and Max was walking over towards her from the other side of the clearing. Max and I made it to Chloe at about the same time.

"You guys hear anything?" Chloe bid Justin farewell as she turned to face us.

"Daniel saw Nathan looking pissy as usual leaving campus a few minutes ago," I relayed the information.

"Coast is clear," Max agreed. "It would be so cool if you and me were going to school here together, Chloe."

I tried to ignore the bite of jealousy I felt at Max's statement. I had no reason to be jealous of her and Chloe.

"And give you more competition for Mr. Jefferson's affections? I could never," Chloe grinned evilly.

"Ugh. You suck. Come on you guys. Let's go all Blackwell Ninja mode," Max stated as she led the way into the dormitory.

* * *

"It's so lame that they don't have co ed dorms here," Chloe remarked as we walked into the boys' hall. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, because I want Nathan Prescott living next door to me," Max commented sarcastically.

"And I want to hear a bunch of teenagers humping like rabbits every night," I rolled my eyes.

"Gross," Max scrunched up her nose at me. "Not to mention it'd be a Vortex Club headquarters."

I hadn't heard much about the Vortex Club besides the little bits and factoids that Max and told me about. They were some elitist group of teenagers with nothing better to do than blow their money on drugs, booze, and skimpy clothes. Not exactly my cup of tea. Lex and I had had a couple run ins with crowds like that in our hometown. The risk was never worth it.

"Point taken," Chloe agreed.

"Wait here. Give us the signal if Nathan or anyone shows up," Max ordered.

"Got it. I got your back, Bat-Max," Chloe promised as she turned to look through the window. Max started walking down the hall and I followed along beside her. Her phone buzzed and she looked down to check it.

"Kate says it's Room 111," Max informed me. We headed to the end of the hall and I spotted Daniel's dorm. His white board had a crude drawing on it that made my skin crawl with agitation. I walked up and wiped it clean, digging through my bag and finding a permanent marker. I pressed the tip to the board and wrote out 'Make Art, Not War.' Be a Part of the Renaissance.' Pleased with myself, I capped my marker and stuck in back in my bag. Max was down the hall tearing something off of what I deduced was Warren's door judging by his graffiti'd image that Max was ripping off the door.

I found room 111 and tried the doorknob.

"It's locked," I stated, looking over at Max as she came up next to me. I spotted a nearby fire extinguisher hanging off of the wall and gave Max a meaningful look. "You think you can rewind time for me if I do this stupid thing real quick?"

"Sure?" she answered hesitantly. I grabbed the extinguished and moved back, gesturing for Max to stay out of my way. I brought it down two or three times on the door handle until it gave way and broke.

"Voila," I smiled, pushing his door open and waving her after me as I entered. Max followed and rewound time as she entered, undoing my damage. I took a moment to look around Nathan's room once time resumed. It was dark and depressingly morbid- more so than mine had been in that alternate timeline. The only light came from a projector that was showing a creepy slideshow on the wall opposite from his giant bed. Dark, mostly colorless, portraits of tortured individuals lined the walls and the bookshelf.

Max moved over to the bookshelf first and I bent over the bed and picked up the two crinkled photos there. They were both excellent shots- one of a boy on the boardwalk and another of a skull in a wasteland. Nathan and I had a similar style in someways- it made me cringe to admit that to myself. I placed the shots back on the bed and started searching the floor.

There were pills over in the corner- the kind with a funny name that made you really hope that they were recreational and not prescription.

"Oh my god, Chloe..," Max trailed off. I moved over to her side and looked at the photo in her hand. It was Chloe Price, laying on the floor and looking totally drugged. My stomach knotted itself up seeing the image. I wanted to choke slam Prescott.

 _"It can't just be a coincidence that he drugged Kate_ and _Chloe and the person who killed me had overdosed me,"_ I thought as I turned away and returned to searching the floor around Nathan's black love seat, hoping to find something.

"Hey, there are some scuff marks on the floor here," I pointed out. Max moved over to join me and we both lifted the couch and moved one end away from the wall. Max peered around at the back and grinned victoriously.

"Jackpot!" Max exclaimed. She produced a baggy full of papers that had a cellphone among them.

"Nice," I smiled. With prize in hand, we departed from Nathan's room and returned to Chloe.

"Score!" Chloe remarked as soon as Max handed her the phone. The victorious feeling didn't last long as Nathan Prescott himself burst into the hall.

"What are you doing in my dorm?" he snapped. He zeroed in on Max on a started forward. "You are such a nosy bitch, Max."

"Don't come any closer, Nathan," I stood between him and Max, narrowing my eyes at the blond boy. I was getting really tired of fighting this asshole.

"Make me, ho," Nathan told me. I shoved him backwards and away from me, but I was more focused on keeping him away from Max. Suddenly, Warren rushed past me and was pushing Nathan away from me.

"I got this, Max. Go," Warren ordered.

"Get the hell out of my way," Nathan ordered. Warren charged forward and headbutted Nathan. Nathan let out a pained grunt before collapsing to the ground. "You are so dead-"

_I saw the gun before Warren. My foot kicked out and knocked it to the side._

_"You bitch," he grunted._

_"You had this coming, Prescott," I growled under my breath. All of my aggression that had been building up the past few days had reached its climax. As far as I knew, Nathan was linked to all of the shit that had gone wrong in my life the past few days. After what he did to Kate, Chloe, Warren, and maybe even me; this kid had some hell to pay._

_Just as I thought that, it was like I slipped out of my mind. I wasn't me anymore. It was dark and I was dark and everything was wrong. I tackled Nathan, landing to where I perfectly straddled his waist. I tangled my fingers in his over styled blond hair and yanked it back until he cried out. "Ah..Perfect. Just like that."_

_The words rolled off of my tongue without me even meaning to give them voice. It sounded monotonous and so not like_ me _. Nathan struggled underneath me and I socked him straight in the throat. He started choking and jerking, clutching his throat in desperation the same way he had wrapped his hands around mine in aggression. "Don't. Move!"_

_"Rio-" Max tried to intervene but I shook off her hand as I remembered the feeling of hollow desperation I had felt when I was laying on the ground about to meet my fatal end. Max couldn't understand. She'd never understand._

_"We're going to make beautiful art together, Prescott," I whispered, pulling out the scissors I had stuck into my belt loop. I opened them up and pressed the sharper blade against Nathan's throat. "Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit."_

_The blade left a trail of crimson in it's wake as I dragged it across his throat. I watched the blood pool up from his throat. I felt myself coming to my sense and I stared down in horror at what I had done._

Thankfully, that's not what happened. Warren kicked the gun to the side and jumped onto Nathan, wailing into him. Max and Chloe were too stunned to stop him and I couldn't bring myself to move.

"You like to hurt people? Like Max? Like Kate? Like Rio? Like _me_?" Warren roared. He kept slamming his fists into Nathan's face. Nathan's face started to change into shades of blue and purple. "Feel this, motherfucker."

"Please! Stop!" Nathan cried out. " _Please."_

"Warren, stop," I finally found my voice as I moved forward and grabbed Warren by the shoulder. I pulled him away from Nathan whilst simultaneously reaching down for Nathan's discarded gun. It's not as if he was going to need it, after all. Max went into action, pulling Warren the rest of the way away. I shoved the gun into the back of my pants. We all fled, one by one, through the exit.

* * *

We left Warren behind at the school. I really didn't want to. He seemed to fragile and scared of himself. It was heart breaking to see him like that. Chloe didn't even seem to give a damn either way about Warren. We piled into Chloe's trunk- Max in the middle between the two of us. We were driving to the beach, as far as I knew, to meet some guy named Frank.

"So.. who's Frank?" I asked.

"Frank is a slime ball drug dealer with I owe some money to and Max tried to shoot," Chloe answered matter-of-factly.

"And we're going to see him, why?" I pressed.

"We need the code to crack his logbook so that we can find out when he sold Nathan the drugs that he used to drug Kate," Max informed me. I nodded in understanding, leaning back into my seat. Chloe's truck smelled like fast food, beer, and oil. We drove along the road for quite some time before Chloe pulled off of the road and parked.

"Now, let's see what Frank knows about Rachel," Chloe stated, I looked over and saw her loading a gun.

"What are you going to do if he doesn't answer? Shoot him?" I asked. Chloe shrugged.

"You can't count on my rewind, Chloe. Seriously," Max snapped at the blue haired driver.

"Obviously I'm not counting on you," Chloe countered. She held up the black revolver. "That's why I've got a gun."

I climbed out of the car and left them to the rest of their feels jam, walking a ways away and staring off at the ocean. I was still in shock from that vision I had had of me killing Nathan. It had seemed so real- like it was an alternate timeline of its own. I could feel the cold metal of Nathan's gun against my lower back. My hand went up to my neck and I felt the shallow hole that had mostly healed since the other night. Even if I couldn't remember what had happened to me, I was now very sure that it was much more than a nightmare. Whoever killed me in that alternate fucked up reality, had done something to me the other night.

 _"Why didn't he kill me in this timeline?"_ I wondered, dropping my hand to my side. My eyes wandered to the right and I saw the lighthouse in the distance. I pulled out my camera and took a quick picture of it before storing it away again. The lighthouse followed me everywhere- I might as well tote around a picture of it too. The truck doors slammed shut and Max and Chloe came over to join me.

"You two finally ready?" I prompted.

"Yea," Max nodded. "Let's roll."

Chloe lead the way to the RV. I eyed the bag full of trash and the ratty fold table that was in Frank's 'front yard'.

 _"Classy,"_ I thought.

Max nodded to Chloe and she rapped her knuckles on the door to the RV. Backing up, Chloe made room for the tall man that emerged from the RV. Frank was a rough looking guy with dirty blond kinda greasy hair, matching facial hair, and light brown eyes. Tattoos peaked out from underneath the collar of his black jacket. He didn't look very amused to see us at his 'doorstep'.

"Oh look... The Wonder Twins," Frank quipped as he shut the door behind him and sauntered down to the sand. His brown eyes leveled on me. "Plus one? I don't recall seeing you around Arcadia Bay before."

"Well I don't tend to frequent grimy RV's," I replied breezily with a smirk on my lips. Frank raised his eyebrows at me in what I took as an amused expression before focusing back on Chloe.

"As for you, you should have come alone," Frank jabbed a finger at Chloe. Chloe wrapped her arm casually around Max's shoulders.

"She's my partner," Chloe countered.

"Yea, or bodyguard. And the other one?"

"' _The other one_ '? And here I thought we had a connection," I snipped, trying to keep the mood from getting too dark.

"Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart," Frank stated. His eyes went back to Chloe. "So let's get to business. Where's my fucking money?"

Chloe and Max exchanged a look and then Max nodded. Taking the cue, Chloe produced a manila envelope of cash and held it out toward Frank. He snatched it up greedily and began fingering through the bills.

"Oh, why, thank you. That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" Frank teased. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Frank turned to go back into the RV but Chloe moved forward.

"Frank...could we ask you a couple of quick questions?" Chloe asked tentatively. It was the first time I had heard her not sound sure of herself since I'd met the blue haired dame.

"You have some serious ladyballs," Frank ground out the words through his teeth. Then, a mean smile lit up his face as he shook his head from side to side. "No."

I looked between the two girls, watching as Frank's answer seemed to kick the fight out of them. Max appeared to be at a loss for what to do and Chloe...well I was mostly hoping that Chloe would just keep her gun in her pants.

"Jesus, okay, okay," Frank assented, obviously having seen what I had seen. "But I'm not getting you high."

"Damn," I snapped my fingers in mock disappointment.

"Frank, we're not here to get high," Max insisted, ignoring my completely.

"No, you don't look like the type. Not like Chloe here. Or maybe even the sarcastic one," Frank nodded in understanding. I arched a skeptical eyebrow at his insinuating that I looked like I might be here to get high. Then again, I couldn't really argue. It's not like I wore paisley and crosses or anything. I wore band tees and skinny jeans almost religiously. "So what do you Hardy Boys want?"

"Just the names of some of your clients..." Max edged.

"Oh, is that all? Well, why didn't you just tell me? How about I just give you the keys to my RV while I'm at it?" Frank through his gestured with his hands incredulously as he talked.

"Listen, Frank, I'm sorry to be such a nuisance, but this is important," Max pressured the drug dealer.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's important these days," Frank remarked offhandedly. His gaze zeroed in on Max and he scrutinized her closely. His face seemed to relax after a moment and I guessed he found what he was looking for. "But I can tell you're not bullshitting me."

"There's no time for that, Frank. I just need a little bit of information," Max assured him.

"Yeah, yeah. Well it always starts with just a little," Frank remarked.

"A drug reference? Classy," I nodded appreciatively. Frank smirked a little bit at my comment. Maybe in another life, we could have been pretty okay friends. Maybe. In a life where he wasn't more than likely the supplier of the drugs that killed me.

"Chloe here knows all about that, don't you?" he referenced. I looked at Chloe. She looked genuinely agitated. Obviously, it wasn't something she liked talking about.

"Come on, Frank. This isn't about me now," Chloe argued.

"Yeah, right, okay. Both of you are giving me a headache," Frank growled. "No deal."

"Frank, we didn't come here to fight. This is so much bigger than us," Max intervened, trying to mediate between the two.

I was startled at the loud bark of laughter that left Frank at that moment.

"You...you come in peace? After you aimed a fucking gun at me and pulled the trigger?" Frank snapped. I felt my own eyes widen as I stared at Max in shock. Did she actually try to shoot this guy?

"To be honest, Frank...you scared me. You held a knife on Chloe. I didn't want to pull the trigger," Max defended. I felt like there was a bit of backstory I was missing here but chose to just let this part of the conversation play out rather than risk upsetting the balance.

"I could tell by the way you held that pop gun...with both hands, like it was a magnum," Frank admitted, a good notch or two calmer and he crossed his arms in front of my chest. "Maybe I shouldn't have brought that knife to a gun fight."

"I only want to shoot with my camera, I swear. You can ask either of them," Max gestured between Chloe and myself.

"Look, Frank, Max doesn't need a gun anyway... So are we cool? Please?" Chloe stepped forward, hope in her eyes.

"Okay, we're cool for now...but my dog isn't. And if you try any shit, he will bite your head off. He's done it before," Frank informed us matter-of-factly.

"We're only here to talk. I wouldn't mess with your dog," Max insisted.

"Shit, you wouldn't have time...," Frank trailed off. "You like dogs?"

"Of course I do!" Max answered with a smile on her face. It was the first time I'd seen her smile since we gotten to this beach and it put me a bit more at ease. "I heard you even rescued a bunch of fight dogs. That's amazing!"

"No, it was just the right thing to do. I couldn't stand to see those poor animals treated like slaves," Frank rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "That's how I came to own Pompidou."

"Sounds like the luckiest dog since Snoopy," I commented. Frank laughed. I had to admit- if it wasn't for the drug dealing and booze- this Frank character might have been the man after my own heart. He actually referenced the Hardy Boys. And his life was kind of like realistic Shaggy and Scooby Doo. _Cue girlish swoon. Not really._

"You're an interesting piece of work, you know that?" he pointed out, looking directly at me as he spoke.

"Maybe we can get back to rescuing Rachel now?" Chloe cut in angrily. Frank's entire demeanor changed.

"Rachel?" he said her name like just saying it was risking losing her memory forever. "Is that why you're really here?"

"Yes, we're so close to finding her now, Frank. We need all the help we can get now...especially from you," Max stepped in.

"You and Chloe do not know Rachel like I did and I couldn't even help her," Frank snapped at Max. This Rachel chick sure seemed to have gotten around back before she went missing. A drug dealer? _Really, Rachel?_ "You're in way over your heads. Why don't you just go play in your clubhouse?"

"Rachel said she gave you one of her favorite photos. That proves how much she cares...and you care. That's why you have to help," Max pressed.

"How the hell did you know about that photo? That's my favorite picture of her...," Frank's gaze grew distant. "I can look at it anytime and she'll always be there for me. I can't stand not knowing where she is...not hearing her voice...or her laugh...anymore."

"We can change all that... It's up to you," Max informed him.

"Help us find her, Frank. Please...we really need your client list," Chloe begged.

"If there's a chance in Hell you three dorks can find Rachel, I'll take it. My dog isn't barking at you, so I guess that's a good sign," Frank pulled out his list and instead of handing it to one of them, he gave it to me. I looked at the man. He definitely looked like he'd seen some awful shit in his life but there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. I took the list from him and carefully tucked it into my back pocket.

"Thank you, Frank," I thanked him.

"This really means a lot, Frank. Thanks, really," Chloe added.

"Yeah, yeah. Just let me know what you find out. Okay?" Frank requested.

"We will," I promised, and I meant it. This guy may have let life turn him to shit but I could see how much this Rachel girl had meant to him. She was the light in his darkness. Waking up with her gone was probably similar to how I felt awakening in that alternate reality to Lex being gone. There's nothing more painful than never getting a proper goodbye.

At least, that's what I thought.


	8. The Dark Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio finds the Dark Room and some of the truth of what happened to Rio the night she was abducted is revealed.

I found myself positioned in Chloe's bedroom with my eyes glued to the evidence they had collected. There were pictures, papers, books, and one phone courtesy Nathan Prescott.

"We should start with Frank's logbook," I stated decisively.

"This paper he gave us will tell us who's who in the logbook so we'll know when Nathan purchased and what he got," Max grabbed the paper and moved it further along the board. Using a push pin on it, Max then retrieved the log book and put up the pages of Frank's recent documented deals on the board. I walked over to take a look at the code breaker.

"Nathan is Rottweiler," I discovered. My eyes ran along the pages looking for the deals Frank had made with Nathan. I ripped the three pages with "Rott" anywhere on them and flourished them in front of Max. "Here! Do you have a highlighter?"

Max handed over a yellow highlighter and I used it to mark the deals with Nathan. I remembered the scissors in my belt loop and pulled them out. Holding them in my hand, I remembered my vision of me looming over Nathan as I used these very scissors to cut his throat. I shook the thought away and cut the highlighted portions out as strips. Max took them from me eagerly and pinned them up on the board.

"Awesome!" Max cheered. We moved over to the evidence Max had gathered from Chloe's step dad- Blackwell's own head of security David Madsen. Max grabbed the coordinates and the pictures of car's license plates. "I think these will be useful."

"We're looking for Nathan's car right? Maybe Sergeant Paranoid got a photo of Nathan driving it in here," I offered as I picked out the photos of Nathan. We pinned up all of the photos and the coordinates. "Look at this photo. It's Nathan in a big red truck. The rear brake light is taped."

"This truck as the same brake light taped up," Max showed me the photo of the rear of a red truck. SXFTNDR was printed on the license plate. "This should be his. Do any of the coordinates talk about this license plate?"

"This one," I found the coordinates that were for Nathan's truck. Max grabbed the sheet off the board and walked over to where Chloe was tapping away on her computer.

"Chloe, plug in these numbers and see if they lead to an actual address," Max ordered.

"Aye. aye. Captain," Chloe nodded, setting to work. "Here we come, Rachel."

Chloe looked up all the latitudes and longitudes. She printed off pictures of each location and I cut them out while Max took note of the coordinates on yellow post it notes. We stuck the corresponding coordinates on their appropriate pictures and pinned them up on the bottom of the board. I studied each location, hoping I would recognize something.

"We need to get into Nathan's phone," Max stated. Her eyes darted between the different scraps of paper on the board.

"Does one of those have his birthday or something on it? Maybe that's it. It's a bit predictable..," I trailed off.

"His school file!" Max exclaimed, bending down and scanning Nathan's file for his birthday. She must have found it because she quickly moved over and put it into his cellphone. It unlocked and Max let out a victory whoop. Max went through the texts and then took the phone over to Chloe. Chloe hooked the phone up and printed off the messages so that we could pin them up to the board.

"Alright, let's put these pieces together," I rubbed my hands together as I took in the last step of the board.

_"So close..."_

* * *

All of those clues led us down a dirt road and way out of the way to a desolate wooden barn owned by a Prescott. I stared up at it as we all clambered out of Chloe's truck. My stomach was tying itself up in knots. Nothing about this place struck me as being particularly familiar. It was just a barn. A creepy old barn.

"Why is it always a barn?" I muttered under my breath. We approached the front door. Max bent down and scrutinized the dirt.

"Holy shit. These tire tracks are fresh," Max observed. I felt my heart jump up into my throat as I knelt down and raked my eyes over the tracks. I don't know why I bothered- it's not as if I could deduce what kind of car it was just from the tire tracks. Sherlock Watson, I was not.

"Let's find another way in," I pressed, straightening up and walking off to one side to search for a way in. I rounded the corner of the barn and spotted a sheet of metal that didn't seem to be attached to anything. Curious, I walked up to it and lifted it, moving it off to one side. It revealed a sizable hole in the wall of the barn. I moved another sheet of metal out of the way. "Guys! I found a way inside!"

"Awesome!" Max called out as she rounded the corner with Chloe right behind her.

"Way to go, Rio," Chloe grinned as she ducked inside the hole first. Max and I followed closely behind her. The inside of the barn was cavernous and musty. Hay covered the floor. There were ladders and platforms in a few places, an abandoned tractor, and a hook. I'd watched a few horror movies. That hook was for moving bales of hay. Or stringing up the occasional wayward victim.

I'd wandered away from Chloe and Max. When I glanced over my shoulder at them, I saw Chloe opening up a wooden chest. I surveyed the interior of the barn. There had to be more to this place than I was seeing.

"Maybe there's a cellar," Max offered hopefully, coming up next to me. I nodded numbly, kicking around hay as I searched for a sign of anything other than dirt and rat feces in this place. Max knelt down on the ground, brushing the hay aside. "Nothing here."

We searched for several minutes before I finally felt something solid underneath my fingers. I shifted around the rest of the hay in the area. It revealed a trapdoor set into the ground.

"Woah," I gaped, reaching down to finger the lock. "Hey Max. Come check this out."

"What's up?" Max asked, coming up beside me and taking a knee on the ground. "We gotta bust this open."

"Bring me that hook from over there," I gestured towards the pole next to us. Max retrieved it for me and handed the bulky thing to me. I hooked it into the latch and traced the rope with my eyes. "This should be some type of pulley system. Can you find the end of this rope, Max?"

"It looks like it's up on that platform," Max mused, walking over to the lower of the two platforms. She got Chloe to help her onto the first one and then somehow finagled her way up to the higher platform. "I'm gonna have to rewind to get this old motor back up here!"

"Go for it!" I prepared myself as Max rewound time. Once it resumed, I moved away from the cellar. "You got a plan?"

"Yea!" Max called down. I heard a loud bang and the hook jerked the latch upward, breaking it and effecting allowing us access into the cellar. I walked over and started trying to lift it myself but it was much heavier than I had expected.

"I'm going to need some help!" I informed them. Chloe and Max rushed over, both bending down and helping me lift up the trapdoor. It revealed a set of whitish grey steps. Flickering fluorescent lights illuminated the stairwell. I felt my stomach twisting inside of me.

"Holy shit..," Max muttered. "Do I even need to say how weird this is?"

"You just did," Chloe commented, leading the way down the steps as Max and I rose to follow. "What kind of person builds a place like this?"

"A Prescott, of course," Max answered. I felt a nagging sensation in the back of my mind as I followed them down the steps. At the end of a long, grey hall of stone was a vault door. There was a keypad next to it and as I drew closer I noticed that the numbers 2, 4, and 5 were faded. Whoever came down here, came down here often.

"Okay, what combination do you want to try first, Max?" I asked with a purse to my lips. "2,4,5? 5,4,2?"

Max typed in both codes and, to my amazement, 5,4,2 was the answer.

"Oh yes! I thought that only worked in movies!" Max cheered. She moved over and started turning the vault-like handle until a loud, definite click sounded and the door opened. "Open sesame."

"Stocked and ready for the apocalypse. This must have cost a fortune," Max remarked as we entered the room. It had white tiled walls and stainless steel shelves that were lined with supplies. There was a big industrial sink against the wall opposite from the door. There was minimal lighting so the room was mostly shadows. I looked off to the left. It was separated off from the rest of the room by a translucent curtain. "What the hell is this place."

Something in the back of my mind was screaming at me to leave now- that there was something in this place that I really didn't want to see. I wandered into the other room and looked around. There was a gigantic, expensive printer and above it was a large photo of a woman that was tied up. It was a view from her back. She had a long spill of inky black hair and her skin was pale- even for a black and white image.

The image had an eerie beauty to it.

I continued to look around the room, just taking it in. It was all shades of black and white. There were images on the walls and a modern computer desk set up in front of a cupboard. Off to my left was a white couch and tons of very expensive camera equipment. It looked like this place was set up for a high profile photo shoot to occur at any moment. An odd sense of deja vu washed over me. It wasn't like 'damn't Max put your time dick away' kind of deja vu. Something about this place was eerily familiar in all the worst kinds of ways.

Max approached the cupboard and opened it up, revealing rows of red binders with names on the spines. I walked over to the desk and spotted a red binder identical to the others. It hadn't been labelled yet. I picked it up, prepared to look at it when Max came over and demanded my attention.

"Woah..check this out," Max placed the red binders on top of the desk. "This one has Victoria's name on it but...it's empty."

"What's the next one?" I asked. Max moved Victoria's binder out of the way and showed me the next one. Chloe had come over to scrutinize them with us. The next binder had Kate's name scrawled on the side. Max opened it up and it was full of pictures of Kate looking completely dosed. "Church Girl.."

"Oh my god, it's Kate. She looks completely out of it," Max gasped. I wrapped my free arm around her shoulders comfortingly. The petite girl curled into my chest. I dropped the binder I had been holding and it fell open on the floor. "How could anyone do that to Kate?"

Chloe closed Kate's folder and put it off to the side, grabbing the third one Max had pulled from the cupboard and reading the name on the side as I released Max and bent down to pick up the dropped binder.

"Rachel," Chloe whispered. I didn't here the rest of what she said as all of the sound in the room seemed to go on mute at the sight of the photos in the red folder.

It was a girl with long dark hair that was was like a pool of ink around her. The first photo was taken from above white her head tilted up towards the camera. Her eyes were closed, her long dark eyelashes curling against her cheekbones. Her slightly down turned lips were slightly apart and she had a straight, Nordic nose. I pulled the picture out of the plastic protector and its voice burst to life in my hands.

_"Ah... Perfect. Just like that."_

My head pulsed in pain. I _knew_ this voice. I _knew_ the girl in this photo.

_"Don't. Move!"_

_"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled,"_ a deep male voice resonated in my mind. I could feel the ghost of a caress on my face.

"Max..," I whimpered as the picture seemed to grow more depth. I felt like I could fall inside the photo.

 _"No, shh, shh. Don't speak,"_ the voice commanded. Then, without warning, I felt myself slip into the image. A blinding white light filled my field of vision and when it cleared I was laying on a cold, hard floor. My mind felt strangely clear but my body wasn't responding to me. I felt a hand tilt my face.

"Ah... Perfect. Just like that," the male voice purred. I managed to peel open my eyes but it was so bright I could only see the silhouette of the man above me. That, and his camera. The flash went off from the camera as he took a picture of me. I tried to squint against the light to see his face but my vision was blurred even when his face shifted into light. I must have been drugged.

I struggled to move but my wrists and ankles were bound together.

"Don't. Move!" the man yelled at me. I flinched away from the harshness of his voice.

 _"Why am I back here? I thought this was a dream? This man_ definitely _isn't Nathan,"_ I thought as he apologized for yelling at me for the umpteenth time. I was so tired of hearing this same dialogue over and over. I felt like I was going insane.

"Where am I?" I mumbled, squeezing my eyes shut and then opening them in the hopes that it would clear up my vision. It didn't do any good. I was way too doped up to see anything.

"No, shh, shh. Don't speak," he commanded. He was startlingly close to me but his face was a blur of light and shadows. He pressed a gloved finger to my lips to silence me. "You shouldn't even be awake yet. The dose I gave you should have lasted for at least another half hour."

"Dose?" I mumbled.

"We're going to make beautiful art together, Rio," This had to be Tuesday night. I was reliving that whole ordeal all over again. Maybe I'd never really escaped. The alternate reality, the investigation with Max and Chloe, finding the Dark Room- it had all been one big hallucination. It must have been because there I was, back in that room all over again. There was no escaping this place. My eyes glanced over to the side as the man rose and walked away from me. I could see a white couch on the edge of all of the blinding light.

When he got back to me, he turned me onto my back and straddled me. I stared up at him numbly, waiting for the inevitable prick of the needle in my neck. Maybe he'd finally kill me.

"What's my name?" he asked, leaning down to rub my neck near the base with something cold and moist. Was he _actually_ disinfecting it first? His touch made my skin crawl and I felt bile rise in my aching throat.

"I don't...I don't know," I muttered.

"You really are a work of art, Rio," the man whispered just as I felt the prick of a needle entering my neck. My vision went completely dark as I succumbed to the powerful drugs flooding my system. It was a beautiful feeling.

Floating on a sea of darkness listlessly without a thought.

I was jolted back to reality suddenly and violently. My body arched off of the ground as I took in a sharp inhale. The room sharpened into view once I was back on the ground. I stared up at the ceiling as I tried to regain my composure. Everything that had happened that night had been real. I'd been abducted, drugged, and photographed by some man that knew my name.

"Rio! Are you okay?" Max asked, staring down at me with concern in her blue eyes. I looked down at the photo in my hand. It had changed- only slightly. My eyes were open. The silver orbs were startlingly captivating even though they were glazed over from the drugs I had been on. "Holy shit."

Max took the photo from me and the binder as well, shifting through the photos. Whereas there had been a few photos of Kate, there were at least five or six of me posed in different fashions. One had me on my back. He must have taken it right after drugging me the final time. The angle showed me that the man had to have still been straddling my hips when he had lined up the shot. The idea of him touching me made my body feel numb.

"What the fuck?" Chloe gaped at the photos when Max held the binder out to her. "Is this-?"

"That's me," I croaked out.

"Rio..," Max trailed off. "When could this have happened?"

"The other night. After I left your room, I went for a walk... I thought it was a nightmare...," I explained, unable to will myself to move. "It was real, Max. The Dark Room is real. This isn't real. I'm just dreaming. I'm going to wake up on the other side of his lens again.."

"Whose lens?" Max asked. "Nathan?"

"No," I shook my head.

"Of course it was Nathan! Come on, Max. We need to go to the place in that photo," Chloe ignored me. She seemed to be on a warpath of sorts. I was guessing it had something to do with the infamous Rachel Amber. Honestly, I couldn't bring myself to care about some girl that was probably long dead. If I had learned anything these past few days, it was that no one that enters the dark room leaves it unscathed.

In my case, I wasn't sure if I'd ever really leave it.

"Come on, Rio. Let's get you out of this place," Max helped me to my feet. I took the red binder- the one full of photos of me- and clutched it to my chest desperately. My knuckles turned white with the force of my grip.

_"We're going to make beautiful art together."_

_"This is art to you?"_ I'd never felt so put off by something as simple as photographs.

"I'm taking these with me. I.. I can't leave them here," I insisted. Max nodded and we followed Chloe out of that horrific place. I tried not to look at anything. My chest felt tight and I just wanted to lay back down the floor and drift back off into that dark nothingness. The sweet embrace of death I had been granted in that alternate reality seemed like a luxury now when compared to the hell I was feeling internally. I just wanted to feel that all encompassing darkness wrap me up in its cold embrace. Instead, I walked out of that awful barn and got into Chloe's truck.

I wondered if I would be happier if I hadn't come with them- if I'd never even thought twice about my fate in that alternate timeline or the incident during my walk a couple days ago. Maybe ignorance is the one true bliss I have now been denied. Knowledge wasn't always a gift. In this case, it felt like a curse. Even as we drove away from the barn, I couldn't get that voice out of my head. The familiarity of it had struck a chord in me.

_"If it wasn't Nathan, who was it?"_


	9. Thinking Too Much About The Wrong Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End of the World party doesn't go exactly to plan.

Chloe's truck jumbled us as we drove along the road. All I'd really paid attention long enough to learn was that we were going to an old junkyard to find the spot where Nathan had posed with Rachel in the photo- not that either of them was vocally admitting that Rachel had probably been killed by the same man that had killed me in another reality. I stopped trying to argue with them about it not being Nathan. Chloe was too stubborn and close minded to consider that anyone else could possibly be responsible. So, after learning of our destination, I turned my thoughts elsewhere.

Elsewhere, unfortunately, was the red binder in my hands. A dozen questions buzzed around in my brain and they all revolved around these photos. There were the very rare and disturbingly interested ones like 'I wonder how he managed to capture this angle without casting a shadow across the image'. Then there were the cliche ones such as 'why me?' and 'what kind of person does this kind of thing?'.

I'd only ever modeled for my own photos- Lex's if she really wanted me to. Modeling in front of a lens was personal. I'd always been uncomfortable with the idea of posing for another photographer. There was an intimacy to it that I wasn't prepared to take part of with another person, besides my sister. Modeling for my photographs was the one time I allowed my walls to come down and I let myself appear vulnerable for the sake of the art. Even then, all of my self portraits had a _message_. That brought me to my biggest question.

 _"What is the message here? What's the meaning?"_ I wondered, running my fingers along the face of the binder. It was red- like the cartoony red color of blood in cheap anime. It felt like any other binder in the world- smooth and plastic. There was nothing fascinating about it- nothing terribly unique. I'd seen dozens more like it in that cabinet back in the Dark Room, and yet, this one binder had me both simultaneously disgusted and enraptured.

My fingers tucked under the edge and I opened it up to a ninety degree angle. Both of my eyes scrutinized each photo individually. The first one was the one that had somehow changed after I had relived the...incident. The pair of glazed over, silver eyes stared up at me like twin moons being torn apart at the center by a black vortex. The next photo was me on my back still with my arms crossed above my head loosely. My wrists weren't bound in this photo and it was one of the few full body shots in the binder. In the image, my legs were together and turned to the side with a bend to my knees. I must have been completely out of it because my eyes were closed and my lips were just barely parted to allow air to pass.

Just like in the other full body images, in this one my feet and legs were bare. I was still wearing my rumpled tank top in the photo and it fell down long enough to barely cover my underwear. I thought about whoever this man was pulling off my shoes and pants, lining me up for this shot. The idea of his hands all over my legs made my stomach heave. My eyes moved on to another photo.

The third and fourth photos were focused portraits. My face, my mouth, my eyelashes against my cheekbones, and my hair spun wildly around me like a dense oil spill. Each image was just as dramatic and posed as the first one. It made me sick to my stomach to admit that whoever took these photographs was talented. These weren't amateur shots in the slightest. In fact, the obvious skill behind each shot was one of the things that left me feeling strangely hollow inside and searching for any sign of what the photographer was thinking.

My eyes finally stopped on the last photo. In this one, I was laid out across the white couch and posed like that woman from _Titanic_.

 _"Photograph me like one of your french victims,"_ I thought bitterly as I finally closed the binder. Looking at the photos, I could almost forget that they were of me. For a moment, I could almost will myself to forget the context surrounding their creation. I looked around and found that we were pulling into some sort of junkyard. Personally, I'd never found myself trekking through the Arcadia Bay junkyard. Max and Chloe were talking next to me- more 'Nathan's balls' this and 'Rachel would' that. If I never heard Rachel Amber or Nathan Prescott's names again after this, it would be too soon.

"Come on," Chloe ushered us out of the car as she yanked her seat belt off and began rushing through a path that was lined with piles of discarded junk. Max rushed out of Chloe's door and after the blue haired girl. She was yelling for Chloe to slow down but Chloe seemed to have finally given over to the panic that had been in her eyes ever since we left the Dark Room.

I climbed out of the truck and followed after them even though my legs felt numb with pins and needles. When I caught up to them, Chloe was on the ground with her fingers clawing into the dirt. The location did resemble the photo to a T. Max had knelt beside her, digging away with her own small hands.

"Rio! Help us!" Max called out to me. Hearing her say my name seemed to activate something deep within me. I could feel a slight buzz of adrenaline running through my veins as my legs kicked into action and I rushed across the dirty, littered ground. If Max needed me, I could shove down the dark thoughts that had been building up like a storm cloud on the horizon of my mind. They'd already gotten a shallow hole dug. I contributed my own hands to the effort, hooking my fingers into the dirt and dragging it out of the way. Clumps of dirt were flung in every direction. What was probably only a few minutes of getting dirt and dead roots in my fingernails felt more like an hour of trying to find _anything_ here while listening to Chloe hyperventilate.

Then the moment came when my finger hooked into a piece of cloth and that part of the ground seemed to depress a bit. I couldn't resist the urge to vomit when I realized I had stuck my finger into the decayed corpse of Rachel Amber.

Turning my head, I allowed my stomach to empty itself upon the ground. The acidic taste in my mouth was almost worst the the awful burn it left in the back of my throat.

"Please, no," Chloe whimpered as the stench hit the air. I turned back and saw Max clearing out some more of the dirt. Max ended up following my example and heaving into a pile of junk.

"That smell," Max remarked in disgust.

"Rachel, no, no, not her. Please, not her," Chloe begged. I could hear her fighting back the urge to vomit as well. My eyes went back to the corpse in the ground. Rachel Amber had been wearing a lovely royal blue shirt when she had been buried in this shallow grave. It was covered in grime and dirt- much like the rest of her. She smelled like- well honestly I didn't have a comparison for the smell of a corpse. Imagine that smell when the power has been out for a couple days and all of the food and milk has spoiled and then some asshole opens the door.

Rachel Amber smelled like the spoiled contents of a powerless refrigerator.

As I made that discovery, Chloe finally gave in to the urge to spill the contents of her stomach like the rest of us. She crawled away from the body and started dry heaving. Max scrambled to her side, apologizing to her profusely as she held Chloe tightly- as if just squeezing Chloe as tight as she could would hold the pieces of her together.

My eyes went back to the shallow grave before me. In another reality, I was in a shallow grave just like this one. In this reality, I had been left alive.

 _"Why?"_ I wondered desperately. None of this made any sense. _"Why would he kill me in that reality and not in this one? Why kill Rachel? Taking photos without permission is a lot lower on the crime bar than murder."_

It occurred to me what he had said the last time I had had to relive that moment.

 _"What's my name?"_ he'd said.

 _"He wanted to know if I knew him- if I could identify him. Rachel must have known him. In the other timeline I must have seen him,"_ I concluded, turning my gaze back to the weeping girls that were clinging to one another desperately. I fought to think of someone I had seen in that other reality. I'd encountered so many people- Nathan included. As I watched the two girls try to hold themselves together, I wished I could tell them who had done this.

"What kind of world does this?" Chloe gasped through her sobs. " _Who_ does this?"

His name was as allusive as his face had been.

* * *

Chloe had eventually subsided to the next stage of grief. Denial had ended and was followed by a fiery anger that reminded me of the storm. _Now_ , she was on a warpath. Chloe was her very own self destructive hurricane of rage and the permanent loss of Rachel Amber seemed to have finally set the storm loose. Who was her target? Nathan Prescott. I didn't bother to argue with her on the point. After all, Prescott had pulled a gun on the blue haired girl _and_ was posed with Rachel in some of the photos. He was also the one who drugged Kate.

So, by that conclusion, he must at least be connected to the man with the voice that haunted my nightmares.

Our new destination? Blackwell Academy. Why? Apparently, the infamous Vortex Club was hosting the "End of the World" party. Honestly, it felt like it'd been years since Jefferson had told us about the party and I had immaturely flirted with him to get a rise out of Max. It hadn't, though, and that was the part that fucked with my head the most.

I looked back at the red binder that was back in my lap now that we were on the road again. The Red Binder. The only one that wasn't labelled. The only one with so many photos. It was an anomaly- as if he had gotten too distracted taking photos and had, consequently, less time to assemble the binder.

 _"But why bother taking me back to the school?"_ I mentally asked. Of course, no one answered.

Chloe pulled into the parking lot of Blackwell, narrowly missing a pedestrian or two on her way. Once she'd stopped, I could see the anger burning in her eyes.

"Enjoy your last party, Nathan Prescott," Chloe growled irritably.

"We don't have to go in there, Chloe. We have enough evidence, we can go to the cops," Max tried to convince her. "After what he did to Kate and Rachel. And now Rio-"

"I keep telling you Nathan wasn't the one who was taking those photos of me. I remember the voice," I argued, getting agitated.

"You were _drugged_. Nothing you remember can be counted on as being 100% accurate. Come on, Max. We _know_ what Nathan has done and what he's capable of. _He killed Rachel_ ," Chloe rebutted my argument. I narrowed my eyes at her. Max went to my defense but I couldn't stand listening to it anymore. I just needed to get my mind on _something_ else. Running my brain around in circles wasn't doing me any good.

"I need some air," I muttered, clambering out of the truck. Neither of them moved to stop me as I fled the scene, leaving the binder behind in the cab of Chloe's truck as I approached the Academy. The 'End of the World' party was already in full swing. I could hear the distorted thrumming of the music from out here. Even with my sweater, the autumn chill sunk deep into my bones. Maybe it wasn't just the crisp night air.

I made my way towards the party, brushing past Warren on my way, when my eyes finally flicked up to the night sky. My heart stilled in my chest as I took in the sight above me that _had_ to be a hallucination. There were _two_ moons in the sky.

Staring up at them, it reminded me of that first photo in the red binder- of my twin grey eyes staring up at me through the black, shadowy frame of my eyelashes. Up in the night sky above me, the two moons seemed to be mockingly mimicking the photo back at me. It felt like staring at my own, pupil-free, irises. I could feel my heart start back up in my chest at a fast, hammering tempo.

The entrance to the party had a large banner hanging over a red lit entrance. A few stragglers mingled in the doorway and on the steps leading up to the double doors. I didn't particularly know anyone so I pushed on past them and through the double doors. I passed Stella- I think Max mentioned that was the girl's name- and made my way through a dense curtain and into the party.

The crisp, October air was swiftly replaced with the barely bearable heat of tons of bodies packed up against one another. Some DJ was blasting music so loud that it seemed to give the room its own heartbeat. Everything was bathed in red and there were pulsing lights and vortex-shaped spotlights all over the room. Almost everyone had a glow stick around their wrist. I made my way through the crowd, spotting a curtained off area in the corner. My curiosity got the better of me and I slipped through the throng of people. When I got back there, there was a little Victoria-in-the-making sitting at the table.

"Hey," I waved, getting her attention. She had layered, reddish blonde hair and a very bored expression on her face.

"Name?" she asked, looking me up and down skeptically.

"Why do you need my name?" I inquired.

"You see that sectioned off spot to my left?" she jabbed a thumb towards the curtained off area that was guarded by some jock. "That's the VIP section. Thanks to Courtney being a lazy _ass_ I'm stuck being the gatekeeper. So..name?"

"Rio Verde?" I doubted I was on the list. There was no reason for me to have been granted a golden ticket from the Vortex Club.

"Rio!" Mr. Jefferson came up from behind me. He was smiling but his eyes seemed much, much darker than I remembered. I convinced myself it was the lighting. "I'm glad you came."

His hand came down on my arm like a heavy weight. Mr. Jefferson waved to the girl behind the desk and led me through the curtain. At first, I was concerned about getting strange looks from people being accompanied by Mark Jefferson into the VIP lounge. To my surprise, no one really looked twice at us. Back here, the atmosphere reeked of alcohol and marijuana. Mr. Jefferson walked over to the end farthest from the entrance with his hand still on my arm in a vice-like grip.

We found a dark corner where the smell of chlorine and marijuana wasn't so overwhelming. By 'we' I mean 'he' and by 'found' I mean 'settled for'.

"How are you feeling?" Mr. Jefferson asked. It was hard to hear him over the thumping of the music in my ears. He finally released my arm but not his hand was on my shoulder. Something about the feeling of his hand on me made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I tried to calm myself. Jefferson was the one person who always seemed to be focused on _me_ when we were talking. With Max, it was always 'Chloe' this and 'Kate' that. Lex had recently been too focused on diagnosing me to actually _see_ me. Chloe didn't particularly like me and was obsessed with Rachel Amber and Nathan Prescott to the extent that she was mentally poisoning herself by running on the eternal hamster wheel of denial and blame. Daniel had seen me, sure, but there was something about the _way_ Jefferson looked at me.

The way Jefferson _was_ looking at me right that moment.

It was as if the entire party was in the back of his mind and his dark, black eyes were dark enough I couldn't distinguish between the iris and the pupil. His eyes were twin black holes, sucking in all of the light in the room. He was probably what cheesy romance authors were thinking of whenever they tried to imagine 'talk, dark, and hipster'.

"I feel fine," I finally answered him. He arched a disbelieving eyebrow at me.

"You look like you've got something on your mind," he commented. I thought back to being back in the Dark Room with that man's camera flashing in my eyes.

"It's just the strobe lights," I gestured vaguely around me. "Not good for seizures, you know?"

"Do you need to leave?" The way he asked the question made it sound like he _really_ didn't want my answer to be yes.

"I can handle it. Big girl, right?" I gave him a thumbs up. Mr. Jefferson's smile returned to his face.

"You know, you don't have to tough it out just for my sake," he chuckled but I could sense the underlying current of seriousness in his voice.

"Au contraire, Monsieur. It would just so happen that you and I have a wager and I happen to like my chances of winning. If I leave, how am I going to claim my prize?" I countered, trying to keep up appearances. I did still have my reputation for a flair for the dramatics to uphold.

"Rio?" I turned and saw Lex walking up to us. Jefferson's hand left my shoulder and I was replaced by my sister's arms wounding around me tightly. Too tightly. Lex almost broke a few ribs before I got her to let up on me. She pulled away slightly and her eyes scanned my face. "Are you okay? You look like you have _literally_ taken the scenic route through hell today. What's going on?"

"I'm okay, I swear," I lied. Normally such a blatant lie to my sister would make me feel like the epitome of shit but for some reason just looking at my sister was making me sick to my stomach. I could see her being the one on that floor, instead of me, with the harsh flash in her eyes and drugs in her veins. "I didn't know you were coming to the party?"

"Well, I made some friends with a few kids this week while you were busy being a total flake," Lex playfully punched my shoulder. "Speaking of new friends, I saw Max talking to Victoria over by the snackage. You may wanna check in on her. She had this weird look on her face."

"I'm sorry about being a spaz this week," I assured Lex, still aware of Jefferson standing nearby. "I'm glad you're making friends."

"I love it here, Rio. Thank you for coming here with me," Lex pulled me into another hug. This one was warm and heartrendingly tragic. "I'll see you later. We'll compare notes all about this crazy week, okay? Bye, Mr. J."

"Will do, Lex," I bid my sister farewell as she left. I lost sight of her shadowy waterfall of black hair as she wove her way through the teenagers dancing. Once she was gone, I returned my attention to Jefferson.

"Your sister is-"

"A bit much?"

"Unlike you."

"Oh, really? People say we look just alike," I countered. Mr. Jefferson moved forward and leaned down, his mouth coming up next to my ear so that I could hear him clearer.

"There's no one like you, Rio," he assured me, the scent of his cologne filling my nostrils. My heart skittered in my chest.

"I-We should go find Max," I changed the subject and backed away from him. I spun on my heel and walked off in the direction we'd originally come from. I spotted Max with Chloe, about to leave. They spotted me first and then Mr. Jefferson. I was the reason they paused their movements but Mr. Jefferson was the one who stepped forward first.

"Max! So you came after all," Mr. Jefferson greeted her. I took up a place next to Jefferson. Chloe still looked like a ball of rage was burning away everything rational inside of her and Max...Max was the vengeful angel I had imagined her to be on that first day.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Max responded weakly.

"Well, it's been nice speaking with you, Rio, but duty calls. I have to announce the winner of the contest," Mr. Jefferson informed me. He turned towards Max. "I really wish you'd entered something, Max. You need to build up your resume and portfolio- like Rio. Anyway, it's show time!"

"Come on, let's go," Chloe ordered once Jefferson was out of earshot. "Nathan's not here."

We walked out of the curtain but ended up stopping about five or so feet away from the lounge. Jefferson was up next to the DJ stand with a microphone in his hand and spotlights focused on him. The lighting was awful but he was soaking it up like a he was a star. To be honest, he actually did look like a star up there. With everyone cheering for him and his skin bathed in light, he might as well have been a star.

"Thank you. Thank you very much," Mr. Jefferson quieted the roar of the crowd. "I don't want to get in the way of the party, but it's time to announce the winner of the "Everyday Heroes" contest."

"Before I announce this, I want to thank everyone who entered a photograph and everyone who _thought_ about entering," Jefferson continued. "Now, this is the most important step in being an artist. Sharing your work with the world. All of you represent Blackwell Academy, and everything our school stands for. As far as I'm concerned, you're all "Everyday Heroes"."

"The envelope, please...," he continued, holding out his hand for the melodramatic envelope. As far as I knew, he _chose_ the winner. I guess _he_ had a flair for the dramatics, too. "And the winner is..."

"We need to go!" Chloe snapped.

"Rio Verde!" Mr. Jefferson announced. My eyes widened into saucers.

"You won?!" Max looked at me with her eyes just as wide as I imagined my own were.

"Where's our lucky winner?" Mr. Jefferson asked, drawing my attention back to him. I turned to ask Max what I should do but Chloe was dragging her away and I felt a familiar hand wrap around my wrist.

"Right here!" Lex yelled, excitedly throwing up my hand as she forcibly yanked me through the innocent bystanders that were basically bowling pins in her back. Before I could object, Lex had me back in the lounge and heading up onto the stage. With all of the lights on me, it was hard to breathe- hard to _think_. I felt hot and nervous. Mr. Jefferson beckoned me further downstage and handed me the microphone. He stayed right next to me as I faced the audience. Lex, who had been right at my elbow, had apparently decided to take her leave of the stage.

She could have just pretended to be me.

But no.

Fucking selfless bitch.

"Um... Hi," I waved meekly at the large crowd. "I don't know 99% of you, so...yea."

"Thanks, Mr. Jefferson, for this honor," I gestured towards the photography teacher next to me. "If I'd known, I might have dressed nicer."

There were some chuckles from the crowd.

"As it is, I had no idea," I continued. "I'm not an "Everday Hero". I'm a loser, emo, freak to most of you. That's okay, I don't really care. Three days ago, you all thought Kate Marsh was an attention whore with a penchant for slutting herself out to random guys. Now, you all pretend you never said those things. You'll pretend you _care_ because you don't want to face the corruption of your own humanity. Kate Marsh was a light. You all tried your hardest to extinguish that light."

"I rambled. My bad. Anyway, I'd like to thank the Academy blah, blah, blah," I finished with a flourish of my hand as I bowed dramatically. Turning around, I waltzed off off stage. Victoria Chase was glaring daggers at me but I had my eyes on the exit. I wove my way out of the room and checked my phone once I had gotten out of the VIP lounge.

**Text from Nathan -Max**

**Going to JY -Max**

"Fuck," I muttered.

"Something wrong?" I nearly jumped out of my skin. Wheeling around, I saw Mr. Jefferson standing behind me with two drinks in his hands.

"Besides you scaring the fucking shit out of me?" I responded accusingly. I felt my pulse racing erratically as I tried to regulate my heartbeat and breathing. "No. Nothing's wrong."

"I'm sorry I scared you. You had me worried. You did win our bet, after all. Your photo was...inspired," he informed me as Jefferson moved closer and closer to me. I barely hear him over the music. He offered me one of the cups and I hesitated to take it. "You look like you could use a drink."

It hadn't occurred to me that he would choose mine because of something like that. The idea of not winning based on my photo made my stomach squirm.

"Did you just pick me because you wanted to dance with me, after all?" I asked, taking the cup from him and drinking from it tentatively. It tasted like wood and fire in the roof of my mouth. Scotch? I'd only really tried scotch once, with Lex, and it didn't go exactly well. This stuff tasted different, but I couldn't place it. Besides, the nice warm feeling I got from taking another long drink from the cup made it hard to think about all of the things that bothered me.

"The dance is just a perk," Mr. Jefferson admitted. He pulled me back into the VIP section and to our dark little patch of peace from earlier and I went willingly. The airy feeling in my limbs just made moving easier and thinking harder. I focused on the feeling of his hand around mine. His hand was warm with some callouses but not many. He pulled me close to him as the music vibrated in my very bones. I drained off the rest of my cup and he took it from me, handing me another.

If I'd thought about it, I would have noticed that he just given me the second cup that I had original thought was his; but at the time I just knew that there was a cup in my hand and I was thirsty. That cup was less full than the other and I drained it as well.

"Come here," Mr. Jefferson led me out a back entrance without attracting attention. I felt the crisp night air on my skin- a stark contrast to the warmth I was feeling in my body. Once outside, Mr. Jefferon's hands pulled my arms up around his neck before coming down to land on my waist. He was staring at me with a keen, dissecting look in his eyes. We started dancing- a simple side to side sway. He brought me closer and I could smell his cologne. Mr. Jefferson leaned down and I felt his lips ghost over the shell of my ear. Even with the warm feeling flowing through my body, I felt a shiver run down my spine. "I knew the moment I looked at your photo that you were special, Rio"

At that moment, I felt my body turn to lead in his arms.


	10. See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rio awakens in the Dark Room.

There was a gunshot. Of that much, I was sure. Everything else was a little hazy but the gunshot itself had been loud and sharp, leaving a ringing in the space between my ears. I tried to get a bearing on my surroundings. The first thing I really noticed was that my mouth tasted like cotton and dirt.

That, and I was in a car- the comfy leather seat molded around my slight frame the way only car seats do. A heater was blasting in my face at an almost scorching temperature. I felt like a baked potato on fire. It wasn't comfortable. Whoever had left me in here must have been really worried I'd get cold.

 _"Well, sir, instead of a popsicle you shall find me in the form of boiling soup upon your return,"_ I thought bitterly whilst shaking off the cobwebs clinging stubbornly to my mind.

Waking up feeling drugged and like dead weight was starting to become a feeling I was used to. It was almost like waking up on a Monday. You feel like shit, you're pretty sure that you're life is shit, and no matter how much you know you need to your body will not move. My eyes peeled open groggily and I looked around slowly. Whoever had put me in here, wasn't in here anymore and had turned their headlights off. It was pitch black in the vehicle and outside. I'd been buckled up in the passenger seat with my legs and ankles wrapped in duct tape. Lethargically, I struggled against the restraints. It didn't do much good, but I managed to give my wrists a little wiggle room.

I heard footsteps crunching on the ground outside and I looked over towards the driver's side. The rear door opened but I couldn't turn my head enough to see what was going on. There was a sound of something heavy being dropped on the seat and then the door shut again. The person didn't come back immediately; I could hear their footsteps recede. Grunting from the effort, I bent my body so that I could get a look at the backseat. It was dark back there was well but I thought I could smell something familiar. It was an earthy scent but it was one I knew.

I tried to move more so that my bound hands could reach the object but it didn't do any good. The seat belt that went over my arms cut into my neck as I twisted in the seat. My head swam and I felt like I was going to vomit so I settled back into my seat. Minutes of strained silence passed as I fought to stay conscious before the person from before returned. This time, they opened up the driver's side door and slid into the seat. The interior light cut on when he opened the door and I felt my chest tighten.

Tall, dark, and hipster settled himself into his seat. He was still wearing the same black blazer, white oxford shirt, and black pants that he always wore. His face was deadly serious as he buckled up and then shut the door. Flipping on his headlights, Mr. Jefferson illuminated the environment we were in. It was the junkyard. A memory nagged the back of my brain- something about the junkyard- but I couldn't quite recall it.

"Everyone buckled up?" Mr. Jefferson asked jovially. His eyes went to me and the dim lighting of his dashboard lights barely illuminated his face. He seemed to realize that my eyes were open and I was staring at him. "Ah.. I was wondering how long that dose would last. I don't prefer putting things in women's drinks. It's much less effective than a direct dose."

"Wh-where are we going?" I struggled to get the question out. Mr. Jefferson smiled at me. It was a sharp, shark-like thing that sent shivers down my spine.

"You should know," he hinted, digging around before pulling out a fresh needle and what looked like the kind of thing someone would have their insulin in. He slid the needle into it and began carefully drawing the plunger back. He did it so skillfully that I felt my stomach knot. He must have had a lot of practice. I squirmed away from him and, more specifically, the needle. My side met the hard paneling of the door. "After all, you paid the place a visit this afternoon with Max and her punk friend."

"Chloe..," I mumbled, wondering where Max and Chloe were now.

"Ah, yes, that was her name. Doesn't matter much now though, does it?" Mr. Jefferson responded casually. He was acting freakishly calm for someone that just drugged and kidnapped me from a party. Now, he was holding a needle in one hand and reaching out for me with the other. "Now, hold still. You'll feel a slight pinch."

"Please. Don't," I begged, twisting in the seat to wear my back was pressed against the door. My mind was starting to fully clear now and I didn't want to fall into that hazy fog again. Mr. Jefferson's left hand wrapped around half of my neck and he pulled me closer to him. His eyes were dark and bottomless- like a void. The twin orbs flickered down to my lips and then back up to my eyes. "Please."

"Shh," he whispered, ghosting his lips over mine as the needle went into the base of my neck. "You'll understand when you wake up."

"I-" the darkness wrapped its cold fingers around me and dragged me deep, deep down into it. I felt something against my forehead. Something soft? Then there was nothing but darkness.

My sister Lex believes that, if you are a truly awful person, you go to the Void when you die. No Afterlife for you. You don't get to reincarnate and try again. Straight to the Void. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Supposedly the Void is this dark, abysmal place that is just vast nothingness everwhere. You are forced into a never-ending almost _non_ existence from which you can never escape. You're a disembodied consciousness. You can't move, talk, or see _anything_. It's jut pitch black nothing in every direction.

So I guess that's where I ended up.

Everything around me was darkness. There were no shadows, no light- just pitch black as far as the eye could see. I felt nothing in this vast void. Although, I really did think _void_ was the perfect term to describe it. It was void of everything. Void of light. Void of color. Void of emotion. Void. I couldn't move, much less think a coherent thought.

I didn't know if it was just a couple hours or a millennia that I spent drifting aimlessly in the vast nothingness. Time was funny that way. Without the light and actually having things to do, time could pass you by without you really knowing it. After what could have been a few hours or a year, I felt something. It was a light buzz spreading across my skin and then there were dots of light penetrating the vast darkness. The void was shredded before my very eyes and that's when I woke up.

My eyelids fluttered open and I groggily shifted. I was strewn across a couch. It was surprisingly comfortable, but I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. The first thing I really noticed was wrong though, was that the couch was _white_. Who the hell buys a _white_ couch? That is just asking for shit to happen. The next thing my eyes made out as my vision started to sharpen was the coffee table with a bottle of expensive scotch on it. Then, my eyes went up and I saw her.

Max.

In the Dark Room.

A camera on a tripod stood between the two of us. She was strapped to a wooden chair with duct tape around her ankles and wrists. A metal trolley was next to her. It had an open red binder splayed across the top along with a few other things I couldn't see. Her head was bent downwards and off to the side. I could feel my heart racing in my chest.

"Max," I croaked out her name. Max didn't stir at the sound of my voice. Panic crept up my throat.

 _"Please don't be dead. Not you,"_ I thought desperately. How did she even end up here? I tried to pull myself up into a sitting position but my strength hadn't returned to my limbs yet. Unfortunately, I ended up toppling off of the couch and onto the floor in a heap. Pain shot through my body as I collided and I let out a yelp. The arm I landed on ached from the impact with the floor and I tried to take my weight off of it by rolling onto my back.

My breaths were labored and agonizing. I didn't bother calling for help. No one would hear me down in this bunker from hell.

"Now how on earth did you find your way down there?" a masculine voice asked. Mr. Jefferson rounded the corner near my feet and I tried to worm my way away from him. The bindings on my wrists and ankles were tighter now than I remembered them being. "Tsk. Tsk. What am I going to do with such an uncooperative assistant?"

"Assistant?" I asked, sounding out each syllable carefully. That's right, Rio. Big words.

"Let's get you back on the couch," he bent down and gathered me up bridal style in his arms. My skin crawled at his touch and I squirmed fruitlessly in his arms. Mr. Jefferson deposited me on the couch lengthwise- the way I had woken up. When my right arm hit the back of the couch I let out a small gasp. Pain shot up from my forearm to my shoulder. I tried to brush off the pain and refocus my attention on Max. I had to know if she was still alive.

"Max-"

"Max is alright. Don't worry about her. It's you I'm worried about, Rio," he stated, taking a seat next to me on the couch. I could feel the warmth of his back pressing me further into the couch. He leaned down over me and caressed my face gently with the back of his left hand. At this close proximity, I could make out each hair in his goatee/beard. It was unnerving. "You keep getting yourself hurt like that and I may have to tie you down."

"Mr. Jefferson-"

"Call me Mark," he ordered, his eyes seemingly transfixed by me. I felt strangely uncomfortable under his intense stare.

"Mister-"

"Mark," he reminded me, his hand sliding down to my throat and squeezing. I let out a strangled gasp as he applied more pressure with his thumb into the column of my throat and it grew harder to breathe. His face had morphed into a thing of barely controlled rage looming above me and it sent waves of fear to my very core.

"Mark," I gasped out his name, my bound hands coming up to pull weakly at his arm. His grip lessened and the expression on his face smoothed over. Mark Jefferson smiled down at me softly. The same hand that been choking me just a moment ago came up to cradle my cheek. I felt the pad of his thumb run over my cheekbone back and forth.

"You really are a fast learner, Rio," he informed me. "Now what did you do to your arm?"

He gingerly lifted up my sore right arm and started inspecting it. Mr. Jefferson twisted it carefully and started prodding the tender area on my forearm. I winced from the pain his touch caused me.

"It should be fine. You must have banged it when you fell," he decided. Without warning, he leaned towards me and I had to physically force myself to remain completely still even as his lips descended upon my own. It took a moment for my brain to process what was happening. Mr. Jefferson's lips were moving against my own in a way that could only be described as gently even though I wanted to find a more negative adjective to apply to it. Moving to pull away from him, I felt his hand wrap around my hurt forearm and squeeze.

"Gah!" I cried out. He took advantage and deepened the unwanted kiss. My attempts to struggle away subsided and he released my arm. I prayed that he would pull away soon. I prayed for the needle. I prayed for a bullet in my skull.

I prayed that it would be over, but it wasn't.

He did pull away, but not that far. His eyes were burning holes into my skin.

"You need to be more careful," he insisted. Again, he lifted up my sore arm but this time he pressed a soft kiss to the tender area.

"Why?" I asked, dumbfounded by his actions. I could still feel his lips against my own and the rough scratchy feeling of his goatee on my cheeks.

"If you're not careful, you are going to get hurt. Was that not an obvious concept to you before?" Mr. Jefferson asked with an arched eyebrow. That wasn't what I had meant, but I had a sneaking suspicion that I didn't want to know the answer to my real question.

Sometimes, ignorance- while not exactly bliss- was better than nothing.

A memory tickled my brain and I recalled the conversation in the car- or at least bits of it.

"Chloe?" I asked, not really wanting the answer I was expecting. If Max and I were here and Chloe wasn't, the odds weren't exactly in her favor. The blue haired Price girl was tough but I doubted she could have escaped Jefferson's claws.

"Who?" Mr. Jefferson's burning gaze simmered down as he raised an eyebrow at me inquisitively.

"Chloe. Where's Chloe?" I pressed myself as far back into the couch as possible, trying to widen the gap between the two of us.

"Oh, yes. Max's punk girlfriend that didn't like you," Mr. Jefferson nodded in realization. There were quite a few things about that statement that bothered me. Firstly, he called Chloe Max's 'girlfriend'. That really shouldn't have been the first thing to needle under my skin, but it was. The second thing was the use of past tense. _Didn't_ as in did not as in-

"You killed her," I breathed, trying to wrap my head around how the man above me could have hidden so much mental imbalance so easily. It should have been so obvious.

_"I could frame any one of you in a dark corner, and capture you in a moment of desperation."_

_"Isn't that too easy? Too obvious?"_

He had looked me dead in the eye.

_"You don't have beauty without beat."_

_"I would love to see you through my lens, Rio."_

It'd been screaming at me right in my face the entire time and I had been too blind to see it. My mind flickered to the forest shot he'd had up in his room- the one that had spoken to me with his voice talking about bringing one of his 'subjects' there.

Subjects.

That's what Max and I had become. We were subjects for his twisted gallery. In Mr. Jefferson's eyes, we weren't human beings. We were a source for his artistic expression. Our rights, our feelings, were irrelevant to him. All that mattered was the shot.

_"I want you to steer clear from Nathan Prescott, Rio."_

He'd even had the audacity to warn me about Nathan. Nathan had always been an obvious threat since the get go. There were no warnings necessary. The kid literally reeked of crazy.

Not as badly as Mark Jefferson, but still.

"It was self-defense, you understand. You don't need to worry about it. Everything is taken care of," Mr. Jefferson responded, caressing the side of my face gently and drawing me from my thoughts. I didn't like the way he kept talking to me like I was supposed to understand what the hell was going through his mind. "She's not worth another moment of your concern."

"Why did you have to kill her?"

"She had a gun. I didn't have a choice. Well, _Nathan_ didn't have a choice," Mr. Jefferson assured me with a conspiratorial smile on his lips. The pad of his thumb began rubbing back and forth along my cheekbone the way it had before. "But I don't want to talk about Chloe."

"What..do you want to talk about?" I edged, not really wanting to know but also not wanting to endure the consequences of not indulging him.

"You," he stated simply, moving his hand up to brush some stray strands of hair out of my face.

"What about me?"

"Did you like the photos?" Mr. Jefferson asked. I knew the ones he meant immediately. The ones he'd taken of me. I glanced around the room uneasily. If he knew I'd been the one to take them, then that meant that this place had to be under surveillance. I returned my gaze to his expectant one. I couldn't figure out his angle. This all seemed wildly intangible and unrealistic.

"I couldn't remember them being taken in the first place," I half-lied. Of course, after going through the photo and reliving the incident, I remembered what had happened to me.

"That would be because of the drugs in your system at the time. I find that the unconscious model is often the most... open and honest," he informed me earnestly.

"I noticed that in your other...subjects," I replied cautiously, thinking of Kate's drugged eyes staring up from the photograph. I could feel my agitation boiling underneath my skin. "Like Church Girl."

"Church Girl?"

"Kate," I corrected myself. "Did you have Nathan drug me like he drugged her?"

"I knew you were intelligent. I could see it in your eyes. You're not like Kate, Rio," he informed me, tilting his head to the side a tad.

"Am I like Rachel Amber?" I asked, staring him dead in the eye. His mouth turned down at the corners into a deep frown.

"No.. You are not like Rachel at all," Mr. Jefferson stated. He leaned down towards me again and I buried myself as far back into the couch as I could. His hand slid back and tangled in my hair, holding my head in place. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Rio."

"Like hell I don't!" I finally snapped, tears pricking my eyes. "You kidnapped me, not once, but _twice_. You killed Chloe and Rachel. You did the same thing to Kate that you did to me the other night and then stood by while she endured _shit_ from the whole student body for it."

"I could almost- _almost_ \- handle all of that but then..," my eyes looked over at Max. Max who was sitting in a beaten up chair. Max who had probably seen her friend die without being able to stop it. Max who had been drugged and probably photographed by Mr. Jefferson and would, more than likely, not make it out of here alive. The same girl that had shyly offered me the desk next to hers in class. The girl that had saved Chloe's life. The one who nearly killed herself trying to rewind time to save Kate.

The girl that tasted like maple syrup and honey.

"Then you took Max," I finished off. Mr. Jefferson's face had grown very dark and serious as I had spoken. Before I could move, his hand had slid back down and was clenching on my sore forearm. A pained gasp passed from between my lips as pain shot through my arm like a shiv.

"I don't very much like that tone, Rio. You've got a bit of resistant fire in you, after all," Mr. Jefferson remarked. "You know exactly why Max is here."

"Mr. Jeffer-"

_squeeze_

"Mark," I growled out his name, blinking away the angry tears that were pricking in the corners of my eyes. I forced my voice to even out. "If you were worried about her finding you out, why didn't you just kill her like you killed Chloe?"

"Always take the shot," Mr. Jefferson answered, a meaningful look in his deep, dark eyes. I looked over at the red binder that was splayed out on the metal tray. His eyes followed my gaze. "Would you like to see them?"

He didn't wait for me to answer before rising and moving towards the metal trolley. Mr. Jefferson picked up the red binder as if it were the Holy Grail and not something he probably purchased at a nearby Staples. He returned to the couch and set the binder down on the cushion before reaching down and grabbing me. Carefully, he guided me up into a sitting position. Then he picked back up the binder and took a seat beside me.

I was overly conscious of the way his leg pressed against mine even through the fabric of our pants. It was warm and firm against me- an immovable object pinning me between the arm of the couch and it. He moved that leg as he crossed his foot over his other knee so that now part of the folded up limb was _on_ my leg.

I think I preferred it beside me rather than on me.

Mr. Jefferson opened up the red binder that was marked MAX on the spine. Inside it there was about three or four photos of Max posed in serene positions. It was the most open and defenseless I had ever seen her. Her eyes were open and blank as if she were dead. The first photo was taken up close and displayed her bound wrists. Her dilated pupils consumed her irises and her hair fell down in disarray. The short, choppy locks still managed to frame her soft face. The next photo was her bound in the chair- looking similar to how she did now. My eyes skimmed the last two. I didn't want to look at them any longer. Just looking at the images was causing disturbing thoughts to circle in my mind.

 _"The pure innocence in this shot is amazing,"_ I thought before mentally slapping myself. _"I did_ not _just think that."_

"This one is my personal favorite shot," Jefferson flipped to the last clear divider that had one lone image in it. This image had been blown up to fill the entire divider. It was Max and me. Our feet were tangled at the ankles and my bound hands were folded over her daintier ones. The top of Max's head was touching the top of my own. Whereas her hair formed a lighter, shorter fan around her, my much longer hair was like a spreading oil spill across the floor.

The image highlighted our differences.

Max was light and soft. Her innocence gave off its own aura. Everything about her profile was calm and resigned.

I was darkness and taint. Everywhere I touched, there were shadows. In the photo, I looked like I could be at least a couple years older than Max. My eyes were open in a fashion similar to hers, the dilated pupils staring at Max emptily. With my wild hair flaring out behind me, I was like the wild, darker contrast to Max.

_"..from light to shadow..."_

"What are you feeling? Right now?" Mark Jefferson pulled me from my thoughts with his deep voice.

"Nothing," I lied.

"Do not lie to me, Rio," he stated with a warning tone in his voice.

"I feel..," I trailed off, my finger tracing my form in the image. "Conflicted."

He reached out and gripped me by my chin, turning my face towards him. I looked up into his dark brown eyes that were staring down at me intensely.

"I.. This is _wrong_ ," I insisted, gesturing towards the photos.

 _"But these images really are beautiful,"_ I thought begrudgingly. If I hadn't known the conditions under which the images had been taken, I would be completely enraptured by the complexity of their meaning. A meaning that I didn't quite comprehend yet.

"You could have asked _anyone_ to model for you and they would have. _Willingly_ ," I argued. "Why go through all this trouble?"

"I told you about my preference for the unconscious model. There's no vanity, no posing. Just a pure, honest image that reflects the subject's true nature," he explained passionately. I thought back to the images of me. My wild, spiraling hair was always spread out around me and consuming the blinding whiteness of the floor with its darkness. In every photo, I was a dark vision of corrupted innocence. Compared to the angelic face of Max, I was the fallen angel Lucifer. "When I brought you here, I was able to reveal your true essence and what I saw in you was..."

"Breathtaking," he finished, reaching up with his other hand and caressing my face tenderly. "Most of my previous subjects have always been part of my bigger work- documenting the purest examples of innocence and their slow slip into corruption."

"You were different. Even out of commission you possessed a chaotic undercurrent of darkness. I could see that in the photos you took of yourself that were in your portfolio, as well," he continued, the fingers on my chin slipping down and to the back of my neck before sliding up into my hair. "I knew from your photos that you were something special- that you would _see_."

"See what?" I furrowed my brows in confusion, trying to take in everything he had said so far. There was so much information and I could feel my brain overloading as I struggled to process it. Mr. Jefferson rose from the couch, pulling away from me. He walked over to the tripod and carefully moved it, turning the camera to face me and adjusting the tripod accordingly. His fingers moved deftly around the camera as he lined it up and set a timer.

Mark Jefferson returned to my side and looked me deep in my eyes. His left hand came up to tangle in my hair. I felt frozen in place- unable to move in any way besides to blink.

"Mark-"

He interrupted me, his lips coming to slot together with my own. This time, I felt my eyes slide shut in acceptance rather than trying to fight back against him. I heard the sound of a flash going off somewhere to my left. Mark pulled away and pressed his forehead against my own so that I was staring into his dark eyes again. The camera went off a second time.

"You'll see what I see," he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over my lips.


	11. Something More To The Darkside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rio begins to succumb to the darkness within her.

Darkness.

Most people assume it's this overwhelming absence of light. There's no visible light- no color- to be perceived by our eyes. No light means there's only darkness left behind. They say that you can't see darkness.

That entire idea, however, implies that light can somehow penetrate total darkness- that darkness is no more than the absence of light and that it isn't something you visibly perceive. It insinuates that what you see is just a lack of light rather than an abundance of darkness.

I'm going to call bullshit on that idea right now.

Darkness is a destructive all-consuming force that sucks all of the light out of the room and smothers it out like a blanket over a fire. It leaves a hollow, empty shell in its wake. Darkness is merciless. It is the silent storm that conceals the true monsters of the world.

Looking at the second photo once it was developed was what revealed the truth of darkness to me.

There was what appeared to be a halo of shadow around us. Compared to Jefferson, I looked soft- like fresh clay waiting to be molded. He was the finished sculpture- all harsh lines in his chiseled finality. His right hand was on my thigh, curled around it possessively. Mark Jefferson's crisp white dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows and provided a stark contrast to the dark aura he possessed. His eyes were like two intense black holes, churning with a violent darkness.

I found that same silent storm in my own eyes.

In the photo, we were staring into one another's eyes with an intense gaze that left a bad taste in my mouth. Even with that vulnerable, lost look on my face I could see the darkness in my eyes and in the spill of dark hair that curled around his fist and over my right shoulder. My profile was laid bare for the camera- from the pale column of my neck to the natural arch of my eyebrows.

I had modeled several times for countless photos- some not voluntarily- but I had never seen my face like that. Considering the inner turmoil I had been experiencing leading up to and during this photo, my face was surprisingly calm. There was a serene acceptance in my features that I couldn't quite wrap my head around. I hadn't been posing or drugged.

Subconsciously, I had accepted what he was doing and revealed a side of me I wasn't quite prepared to see. I had always had a flair for dark imagery and portraiture; but in those photos I had always assumed the darkness hanging from my form like a thick cape was just a facade. It never occurred to me that that tumultuous darkness was swirling and festering inside of me- that it was a part of me.

In pictures, Lex and I had always played the parts of Yin and Yang. Her presence balanced out my own perfectly and vice versa. Whenever we were photographed together, Mother always dressed us similarly and, in the photos, not even Lex and I could tell one another apart sometimes. We melded into one subject.

That balance had been similarly present in the photograph of Max and me- except in that photo we seemed more like two clashing sides in dissonance rather than unison.

Then there was the photo in my hands right now. The one of Mark and me. Without any close observation, it could be perceived as a tender moment between two lovers; but I was scrutinizing every detail. The undercurrents of something dark were raging beneath the surface of this photo. I could hear its voice- ringing in my ears. Mark's voice whispering about how I would _see_. See things the way he saw them. See _myself_ the way he saw me.

He believed that I had a darkness inside of me akin to his own- a darkness that expresses itself through art. Looking at this photo, I couldn't convince myself that he was wrong. No matter how hard I argued internally, I couldn't deny the look in my eyes that mirrored the look in his.

This was what Jefferson had found in my photos. This all consuming void that was as much a part of me as my skin. A darkness that ran through my veins as naturally as blood.

"You see it," Mark pulled me from my thoughts. Surfacing from my own mind was like breaking out of the water for air. I looked up from the photo in my still bound hands and it was like the world was completely new and different. Everything was more colorful and vibrant- and yet, I felt dark and cold. Jefferson was perched on the edge of the cushion next to me, his penetrating gaze focused solely on me. "It's completely natural- a gift. Something I never could have taught Nathan."

"You used past tense again..," I observed.

"Yes, well," Jefferson shrugged.

Nathan Prescott was dead. He'd killed him too.

"Whose blood isn't on your hands?" I whispered disbelievingly. I didn't like the Prescott snob- had even fantasized about killing the asshat myself. Still, even he didn't deserve to get gunned down. "First Rachel. Then Chloe. Now Nathan?"

"I didn't kill Rachel," he stated, his eyes narrowing. "That one was on Nathan. Such an amateur- couldn't even check to make sure he was giving her the right dose."

"Who are you going to murder next? Max?" I gestured towards the still immobile figure. "Me?"

"Why do you think I would ever do anything like that to you?" Jefferson asked, reaching forward and brushing some of my hair away from my face. His fingers skimmed my cheek and I flinched away from the touch. The photo fell out of my hand and slid to the floor. "We are cut from the same cloth- you and I."

"No, we're not," I argued, folding my body in on itself to pull further away from him. I had wormed my way back against the couch- my legs and arms folded against my chest to form a barrier between us. I'd never had a problem with claustrophobia; but I felt like the room was closing in on me. "You're deluded."

"Rio."

The way he said my name in that moment was enough to send chills down my spine to my toes. His voice was an octave too low to be human and a mixture of anger and something else. His fingers hooked into the duct tape that bound my ankles together and pulled as he moved to position himself above me. A free hand was pressed into the arm of the couch next to me to support Jefferson as he forced my legs to straighten out. No matter how hard I struggled, he was able to maneuver me the way he wanted.

He didn't need drugs- just his strength and that impassioned gaze of his that made my legs quiver and my heart pound like a racehorse.

"The only one deluded about anything is you," Mark informed me. His hand had found its way to the hem of my cropped sweater. I felt his fingers brush my ribs.

"Stop touching me," I growled, moving to push him away with my tied hands. He shifted his weight to a knee and used the hand that had been supporting it to roughly grab my wrists and yank them behind my head. I yelped at the pain the sharp movement and weird angle caused. Once the pain subsided, I realized how trapped I was. With one leg between mine and his hand restraining my arms, I was almost completely immobilized by him.

"Why? Does it bother you?" he prodded.

 _"That's an understatement,"_ I thought. He leaned down, his mouth coming to speak into the shell of my ear. I could feel my grip on reality slipping and, this time, I didn't have Lex to bring me back to the ground.

"You can lie to yourself until you are black and blue in the face; but it doesn't change how you truly feel," Jefferson whispered into my ear. I felt a shiver run down my spine but this time it wasn't out of disgust. I buried the feeling away, glaring up at him defiantly. The last thing I was going to do was acknowledge that he was getting to me.

"I don't _feel_ anything for you- not like how you think," I replied stubbornly. The hand that had crept under the hem of my sweater moved sideways- his fingers skirting around my upper stomach and stopping at the button of my high waisted jeans. His knuckles pressed into me as he deftly undid the button. I realized just how vulnerable I was to him. "Why are you doing this?"

Jefferson pulled back just enough to look down at me. His dark eyes flickered down to my lips before coming back up to meet my gaze. A feeling- anticipation?- crawled up the based of my neck.

"Tell me to stop," he stated simply before moving down and claiming my mouth with his. His lips slid against my own softly and I tried to press my own lips into a tight line. After a moment or two, though, I felt my resolve beginning to waver.

All I had to do, according to him, was tell him to stop. He had said it himself. _Tell me to stop._ So why couldn't I bring myself to speak? My resolve cracked a tiny bit and I felt my heart begin to hammer inside my chest.

 _"No. I don't want this. I don't This is so fucked up,"_ I thought frantically as I squirmed against his hold. He nipped my bottom lip and I opened my mouth to verbally protest against my better judgement. Mark Jefferson deepened the kiss. He tasted faintly of coffee. Being kissed by him was nothing like being kissed by anyone else. Mark Jefferson was just as passionate in this field as he was in his photography- and he _literally_ killed for his art.

 _"It is not the time to be making jokes,"_ I mentally chastised myself.

When he pulled away, my eyes immediately found his. His pupils were dilated with desire and his mouth was slightly parted. His breath- like freshly roasted coffee- brushed over my face like soft caresses.

"Max..," I muttered her name weakly.

"Max doesn't care about you- not the way I do. She only has eyes for that blue haired friend of hers. She would put you in the grave in Chloe's place in an instant. Max is a very gifted photographer, but she could never give you what you need," Mark informed me adamantly. The hand on my jeans came up to cradle my cheek. "Understanding."

"I understand you, Rio. No one else could possibly understand you the way I do," he stated matter-of-factly. His hand brushed my hair out of my face for what felt like the millionth time but, this time, it felt comforting. "I _see_ you, Rio."

I felt completely bare beneath him. Jefferson released his hold on my hands and reached back into his back pocket. He pulled out a small, sharp knife and reached over my head and towards my wrists. The blade sawed through my bindings on my wrists and then he tossed it onto the coffee table. Rubbing my raw wrists, I cradled them close to my chest.

"Make a decision, Rio," Mark ordered.

The darkness reared its ugly head inside of me. A weird, awful part of me _wanted_ this. It craved more of Mark's fiery touch- to be further tainted by the darkness that lingered at his fingertips.

After months of micromanaging from Lex and years of having to restrain myself, the temptation that Mark Jefferson offered was too much.

Both of my hands reached up tentatively and I allowed my fingertips to skim his stubbly jaw. Then, without thinking about it further, I slid my hands around to the back of his neck and pulled him downwards.

That was the moment _I_ kissed Mark Jefferson.

My lips pressed against his and Mark immediately responded. It occurred to me that he smelled more like a barista than a photographer- the scent of freshly brewed coffee surrounded him. The kiss was soft and almost _sweet._ That is, if any kiss involving a mentally unstable girl and a psychopathic narcissist could be considered sweet.

I didn't know what I was doing. The entire kiss had been an act of impulse. Mark's hands slid down my sides I felt his fingers slide underneath my sweater and run over my ribs, tracing the under wire of my bra. His goatee scratched lightly at the skin around my mouth. The kiss began to grow more heated as time wore on. I was drowning in heat.

Then I remembered who I was, where I was, and who I was with.

"Wait," I gasped, pushing him back and effectively breaking off the kiss.

"What's wrong?" Mark asked, brushing the stray hairs out of the way and cradling my face gently.

"I need time...to process everything," I claimed, not quite meeting his gaze this time.

"I understand. You don't have to feel rushed. We have all the time in the world together, Rio," he promised, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I'm going to go out and get us some take out, okay? I'll be back soon."

"Okay," I replied. He got up and I felt the relief flooding my veins just before I noticed him returning with duct tape and a needle in hand. "Wait."

"It's alright, Rio. Time will go by much faster this way," he assured me.

"What if I don't wake up?" I whimpered, scooting away from his approaching form and holding up my hands defensively. "Please. I really don't like it. I'll still be right here when you get back, you know that."

"No. You wouldn't leave Max here, would you?" Jefferson observed coolly.

"You said it yourself, Mark. You _understand_ me. I won't leave," I tried to convince him. A small smile pulled up and he set the needle down on the coffee table. Bending over, Mark kissed me softly on my lips.

"Tell me you love me," he ordered. Surprised, I stared up at him. His face was completely serious.

"I..love you," I stated, feeling my stomach twist in my abdomen as I looked up at him. Jefferson kissed me again, his goatee scratching my chin, and then pulled away. Standing up, he gave me a once over.

"I have an idea," Jefferson smiled at me. He picked up the small knife from earlier and knelt down to saw through the bindings on my ankle. Once the duct tape had been pulled away, he discarded both the blade and the duct tape. One of his hands reached out towards me and I eyed it warily. "Come on."

I took his hand and he helped me to my feet. My legs wobbled underneath my weight as my sore ankles tried to buckle. Mark caught me easily, his hands grasping my elbows and supporting me as I collided against his chest.

"Careful," Mark warned me. I managed to get my legs stable beneath me. Mark started leading- by one hand now- over towards the camera.

"What are we doing?" I asked, eyeing Max. She was still so _still_. At least from this distance I could make out the ever so slight rise and fall of her chest.

"Always take the shot," Mark whispered in my ear as he positioned himself behind me. His hands came down over my daintier ones and he guided them up to the camera. With his hands still moving mine, I turned the camera towards Max and activated it. It was my first time dealing with this tech this expensive. Now, I understood what Mark wanted me to do. I lined my eye up to the eyepiece, looking through it at Max's prone figure.

 _"At least make it a great one,"_ I thought, lining up Max in the frame of my lens.

She looked completely open to me. There was none of that 'vengeful angel' attitude that she'd been carrying around this week. Just an angel- a heavenly cupid blossoming up in front of me. It was startling that, in such a dark room, there could be someone that projected such transcendent light.

I took the picture.

* * *

Jefferson had guided me through editing the photo with all of his expensive software- _paid for courtesy of the Prescott clan, apparently._ The entire time, Jefferson kept commenting on how I needed to 'realize my true purpose' and 'express my vision'. The lectures were almost more sickening that having to admit to myself that I was no better than him. I had taken a photo of Max in such a state and now I was polishing it to perfection.

When I was finished, this one portrait of Max was the single greatest photo I had ever taken. Mark agreed with me on that viewpoint. He even thought it was as good as one of his own. He put it in her red binder as if it were a keepsake- a treasure- rather than a symbol of my betrayal.

And that made me sick to my stomach.

Mark had kissed me once more before leaving. At the very least, I had earned his trust.

No more drugs. No more duct tape. I could roam the Dark Room as much as I wanted. The door out was sealed shut- I'd checked.

I went to Max's side immediately after deducing that escape wasn't an option. She was still breathing, thankfully. I lifted up her face in my hands and studied it for some sign of awareness.

I didn't know whether or not to be grateful that she had been completely out of commission during the episode with Jefferson.

"Max, I need you to wake up," I patted the side of her face gently, trying to rouse her from her drug-induced slumber. I could see the small mark on her neck where the needle had entered. "Come on. Before he gets back."

"Rio?" Max muttered after a few minutes of prodding from me. I nearly fainted from relief. Her eyelids lethargically lifted and I felt my heart stutter at the sight of her blue eyes. I'd never had anything fill me with hope more than knowing Max was okay. She glanced around the room- taking in the scenery. "The Dark Room."

The tone in which she said it reflected the obvious disgust she felt in regard to this place. I could empathize with that feeling.

"The exit is locked. There's not really a way out of this Max," I informed her. She eyed the raw looking places on my wrists. "I woke up here too. My wrists and ankles were bound. I... got out of it."

"What...happened to me?" Max asked. There was a sad look in her eyes- the kind of look that expressed just how much she didn't _want_ to know but _needed_ to.

"Mar- Jefferson grabbed you from the junkyard, I think. I should have been there with you but..," I trailed off, thinking about the party. I never drank- or at least rarely did- and I'd taken a drink from him just because he seemed genuinely interested in me. I'd wanted an escape and what I'd gotten was a cage.

"He took you from the party," Max assumed. I nodded numbly, unable to bring myself to tell her what had transpired in this room. "Where is he now? Did he just _leave_ us here?"

"He'll be back soon. Look. If you're awake when he gets back, I'm afraid that he's going to kill you," I informed her. One of my hands reached tentatively forward and tucked a stray lock of brown hair behind Max's ear. "I can't let him hurt you."

"Rio...," Max's voice tapered off as she took in my- more than likely- disheveled appearance. I wanted so badly to wipe away the frown that pulled the corners of her lips downwards. Rising, I moved over to the coffee table and picked up the needle. For such a small thing, it felt like it weighed a ton. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, Max," I whispered, choking on the words as I walked back over to her. I knew the likelihood of Jefferson watching this with his surveillance cameras was high. It was time to put on a show.

I could almost feel Mark's hands guiding me as they had when I had taken the photo- ushering me towards her. It felt like cotton was in my ears. I could see Max's mouth forming words but I couldn't make any sense of them. She might as well have been speaking Mandarin. My left hand came up and pinched her chin between my index finger and thumb. Tilting her head to the side, I decided my best bet was to insert the needle in the mark that had been left from her last dosage. Max struggled against my grip and I cursed.

"Don't. Move," I growled under my breath.

"Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit," I assured her. I could practically _hear_ Mark's voice overlapping mine as I spoke. The needle went into Max's neck surprisingly easy. I depressed the plunger, flooding her system with the drug. Max's wide blue eyes stared up at me in helpless confusion. The drug finally took effect after a second or two of our silent stare off as I pulled out the used needle. Her eyes drooped and then her head slipped off to one side.


	12. Into Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rio comes face to face with her own nightmarescape.

Max's red folder beckoned me over from its place on the metal trolley. The now used needle tumbled from my grip to the floor- forgotten. I strode the short distance over to the trolley. If she were awake, Max could have easily broken one of her ankles free and reached it herself. After placing the photo I had taken of Max inside the binder, Jefferson had closed it up and set it on the trolley to be dealt with later. I wondered if Max could have told the difference between my photo and one of his- if it would even make a difference to her to know what I had done. Would she see me in the light- or lack thereof- that Jefferson had painted me in?

One of my fingers ran along the front of the binder, hooking underneath the cover and opening it up. It was too late to expect forgiveness from Max. She'd hate me if she knew.

Max would hate me just like I was beginning to hate myself.

I hated how easy it was to take the photo. Jefferson's hands had been guiding me; but I hadn't struggled against his grasp. It'd been like slipping on a pair of gloves. Injecting Max had been as easy as stepping back and allowing my body to go through the motions that he had.

I'd argued so vehemently against our likeness but now I was drowning in the shades of grey.

 _"I couldn't let him come back and find Max and try to overdose her,"_ I insisted. My mind drifted to the way I had died in that alternate reality.

An overdose.

Bile rose up in the back of my throat, burning its way up. I choked it down, steadying myself against the trolley. He'd _actually_ killed me. In that other timeline., Mark Jefferson had taken my life as easily as if I were nothing to him.

He hadn't known me in that life.

But I'd known him.

The memory bubbled to the surface of my mind. The damp earth underneath my fingertips and Jefferson staring down at me as the drugs sapped out the last bit of my energy. I'd never be able to ask him why- that timeline was negated by Max already.

 _"Negating the timeline..,_ _"_ I mulled over that phrase for a moment before it clicked. Looking down at the photos of Max at my fingertips, I picked up the one of her laying on the ground with her wrists bound. _"It'll be a test run. Just to see if I really can..."_

 _"This angle highlights your purity, see?"_ Jefferson's voice projected from the photo. I focused on it, feeling my hold on this reality slip as I slid into the captured moment in time. Blinding white light filled my field of vision.

* * *

The room around me slowly came into focus. I back in my original position- strewn across the white couch like a sack of potatoes with my wrists and ankles bound. My mind felt unbearably hazy as I struggled to get a grip on the situation.

"This angle highlights her purity, see Rio?" Jefferson piped up, grabbing my attention. I looked over to see him poised over Max with his expensive camera in hand. "The slightly unconscious model is often the most open and honest. No vanity or posing. Just..."

"Pure expression," Jefferson concluded, taking another shot with his camera. "Oh Christ... Look at that perfect face."

He languidly strode around her, changing angles and positioning the camera to photograph the obviously dosed Max Caulfield. Max struggled to look around but he shoved her back down roughly.

"Hold that stare there!" he ordered roughly. "Stay still!"

"Oh, Max! You fucked up my shot!" Jefferson growled as he examined his camera. Then, like a switch, the anger dissipated from his expression and was replaced with an easy going smile. "But, please don't worry. We have all the time in the world. For now."

_"We have all the time in the world together, Rio."_

"I knew you were special the second I saw your first "selfie"," Jefferson continued, his gaze not leaving Max. He moved around her with the predatory grace of a jaguar. The camera had become an extension of his body. The way he moved with it was both captivating and terrifying. "Yes, I still hate that word. But I love the purity of your own image."

"Not like Rachel, who was always looking in the wrong places. Poor Rachel," he added, a bitter tone to his voice. Then, he looked over his shoulder at me. His eyes softened when he saw me watching. Without commenting, he returned his attention to Max. "Wait... Let me try this angle."

Jefferson laid out across the floor on his stomach, aiming his camera at Max as he took another photo of her. Photo taken, he rose back up to his feet. He examined the photos on his camera- I recognized the look of a photographer scrutinizing their own work.

"If only Nathan could see this setup. He tried so hard, but you can't just throw a few subjects around and expect a cohesive style or theme," Jefferson gestured vaguely around the room. "Rio understands what I mean. Nathan just didn't have that natural gift."

"But he had an eye for shadows," Jefferson admitted. "And an eye for a whole lot more, as his elite family will find out...along with Arcadia Bay."

 _"He's planning to frame Nathan for everything he's done?"_ I realized.

Taking in this scene live was much different than just scanning the photos.

For one thing, I had to listen to Jefferson talk.

"Nice..."

"Good..."

"Oh, those eyes.."

Mark got visibly frustrated.

"It's just too bad you're so goddamn nosy, Max!" Mark burst, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, I could see the current of rage within him burning intensely. Mark steadied himself, trying to contain the storm inside of him. He took a deep, calming breath. The rage sunk back down underneath his eerily calm faced. His eyes flickered over to me and then back to Max. "But this room...is under 24/7 surveillance , so all I had to do was text you from Nathan's phone, and you fell right in to my hands."

"You really should focus on schoolwork, not "private detecting" with your little friend," he lectured patronizingly.

"Chloe..," Max groaned. Her voice sounded so frail I could feel my heart fracture in my chest. The pang of jealousy almost went unnoticed in the wake of seeing Max so vulnerable. Even under these circumstances, Max's loving regard for Chloe caused the little green monster to rear its ugly head in the back of my mind.

"Chloe, right," Jefferson nodded. He really seemed to hate Chloe. There was no other reasoning for him 'forgetting' her name so often. "Yeah, I'm sorry that I killed- that Nathan killed her in self-defense."

He definitely didn't sound sorry and _Nathan_ didn't kill anyone out of self-defense. Nathan was probably already long dead, courtesy of Mark Jefferson. Everyone who crossed his path and caught his attention wound up dead.

I tried not to think too hard about that.

"But she had a troubled history like most Arcadia Bay dropouts. Nobody will be surprised, or care," Jefferson lamented. "Though, I promise... people will care when you die tonight, Max."

"I wasn't lying when I said you had a gift," he assured her. I thought back to that first day. It seemed like a whole different world now. "Okay. Now this looks good. Maybe a few more close up..."

Max tried to move, looking around in vain hope of gaining her bearings. I knew the feeling well. More than likely, the drugs were only just beginning to leave her system. Her vision would be clearing up and she would be greeted with the immense horror of her captor's identity- if she wasn't already aware/

"Max, please do not move so much! I need you posed and framed my way!" Jefferson whined. It really did sound like an angry whine. He steadied his voice fairly quicklythough. "Maybe a new dose will calm down.."

I spotted the metal trolley at the end of the couch- just a foot away from where my bound feet were. Some of the drug was on it along with what looked like a manila folder. I kicked out with my feet using all of the strength I could muster. My body jolted the foot of distance I needed to cover and I managed to knock my feet into the trolley. The small bottle fell over and Mark whirled around with a curse.

His eyes, blazing with an angry fire, darted over to me. When he saw me, however, the fire simmered down.

"It's alright, Rio. I know you didn't mean to do that. I heard about your seizures," Jefferson's voice had taken on a comforting tone as he moved forward and knelt beside me. He reached up and stroked the side of my face. His touch was so delicate I almost forgot what his hands were capable of."I'll clean it up, don't worry."

"Everything will be okay once you wake up," he assured me just as I felt a needle slide into my neck. I didn't know where he had gotten it from- having thought that I had just knocked over and spilled the drugs. My vision started to go black but I could feel my consciousness trying to return to my time. Everything around me was burning up like a photo in a fire.

But I couldn't leave.

* * *

_Fingers of fire clawed up my spine and dug into my flesh. It felt like the fire was consuming me, bit by bit. Acrid smoke filled my lungs, choking me and bringing stinging tears to my eyes. Voices, taunting and cruel, filled my ears as I dragged myself across what felt like gravel made of broken glass. The ground cut into my hands, leaving them raw and crimson with blood as I pulled myself along. I couldn't even feel my legs._

_"Somebody help!" I cried out, looking up into the mix of fiery orange and black above me. There was no reply- just a chorus of hisses from the voices. By this point, my arms were just as torn up as my hands. I could see the bone in some places where the tissue had been torn through. I choked back the bile that rose in the back of my throat, trying to at the very least keep matters from taking an even more disgusting turn. It was bad enough that I was sweating from literally_ every _pore. The sweat slid down my face and arms into the cuts, making the pain even harder to bear._

_I didn't know how I managed to keep dragging my half dead corpse across the broken glass. My body was on autopilot, forcing its way through the fiery landscape even when fatigue started to get the better of me. I could feel my clothes catch fire and the skin underneath begin to sizzle under the excruciating touch. The physical pain was nothing compared to the voices._

_"Pathetic," one of them whispered, it's voice strangely feminine._

_"Delusional," another joined in, sounding more masculine than the other._

_"You really think you can be hero," a third muttered, its disdain evident in its feminine voice._

_"Monster," the first one hissed._

_"Fool."_

_"You should just lay down."_

_"Give up."_

_"You're going to lose either way."_

_"No one leaves the dark room unscathed," it whispered. A sharp pain- harsher than the pain I was already enduring- cut up my back. It tore through the flesh and scraped against my spine. I cried out, unable to contain the pained sound. Flopping over onto my searing back, I stared up into three pairs of eyes that slowly grew facial features as the shadows concealing them pealed away. The first one had Max's face and was sneering down at me like I were a pile of dog shit it had just stepped in. The second was Mark Jefferson, his hand on the third figure- the one holding a knife._

_The shadows slipped away and revealed her Nordic nose and piercing steel grey eyes._

_"Not even you," she finished. The Jefferson-esque figure next to her (me?) pulled her closer and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her raven-haired head._

_"Not that you were unblemished when you went in," the Max apparition pointed out._

_"Filthy," the one that looked like me scowled. "Always so filthy."_

_"So fake," 'Max' remarked._

_"As dark as the Void you belong in," 'Jefferson' added._

_"You couldn't just let her go. You had to save her," my double glowered at me. "Well guess what? **You fucked up**."_

_"Some people are meant to die," 'Jefferson' informed me._

_"Like you," my double hissed furiously. Agonizing pain blossomed in my chest and I felt blood bubble up my throat, choking me. Jefferson turned towards my double and tilted her chin upwards. They kissed- a searing, passionate kiss that looked as painful as it looked enjoyable- and fire licked up around the trio until they were engulfed by the inferno. Flames like scorching tongues trailed across my skin, pulling me into the fire._

* * *

_My eyes peeled open to reveal that I was laying in my bed in my dorm. I frantically ran my hands over my face and body, feeling for any signs of damage. My skin was smooth and, for the most part, unblemished. Warily, I glanced around my dorm room. The walls that I remembered having been plain were covered in images. Pictures of me from the dark room along with Rachel Amber's Dark Room photos and even several images from my own portfolio stared back at me from all sides._

_Startled, I rose from my bed and had barely placed my feet on the ground when a cold chill passed over me._

_"It's alright, Rio," an unfamiliar female voice piped up. I turned and saw a tall, lithe figure emerge from the wall of photos. Feathery blue earrings hung from her ears and mingled among her light brown hair. She had a photogenic face that could make my camera lens melt._

_"Rachel Amber," I whispered, my mouth forming her name even as my brain failed to process the meaning of her presence. "You're dead."_

_"So are you- or you will be," Rachel smiled and it was almost feral. She prowled over to me- that predatory smile pulling at her lips. "Everyone dies. Some of us just die...a little more dramatically."_

_"Rachel-"_

_"Do you want to take my picture?" Rachel interrupted me, her head cocking a bit to one side inquisitively. I felt my camera in my hands and I wondered where it had come from. On impulse, I lifted the camera to my eye and focused Rio is my lens. My muscles moved without my command, my finger pressing down upon the button. The flash filled the room and when it faded off Rachel was still there._

_The color washed out of her skin- turning ashy white as her hair faded to grey. Like a living black and white portrait, Rachel Amber stood before me as if she had stepped right out of one of Jefferson's photos._

_Then things took a gory turn._

_Her eyes turned milky and her gaze was distant. I watched on in horror as her face began to peel away in places to reveal the under layers of decaying, maggot infested tissue. Rachel's mouth opened and dirt fell from between her colorless lips. Invisible claws raked through Rachel's clothing, tearing into her flesh. The tips of her fingers rotted off to reveal the gruesome bone underneath._

_"Ashes to ashes. From dust to dust," Rachel stated with an ethereal quality to her voice. A sharp pain bit into my foot and I looked down to see a broken needle underneath my right foot. The glass stuck into my skin, sending sharp pain up my leg. More and more syringes seemed to fill the room, covering the floor and then rising higher and higher. The sharp implements rose up to my knees at an alarming rate and I was too afraid to move._

_"Rio!" I heard Max cry out my name. The pile of needles had risen up to my thighs. She called out my name again- this time with desperation in her tone. I tried to move towards my door but the moment I made the slightest movement I felt at least six pricks into my right legs. It went numb as a drug of some sort began to take effect. I could still hear Max screaming desperately for help. I tried to tough my way through it. Another movement sent dozens of needles into my left leg and I could barely keep myself standing as the pain mingled with the buzz of the drug. The needles continued to spill into the room from somewhere- now up to my stomach. I tried to brush them out of the way but that just resulted in seven needles piercing the flesh of my arm. All of my feeling in the appendage was gone. I tried to tear the needles out of my arm but the effect had already taken hold. "Rio! Please, he's going to kill me!"_

_"Hold on, Max!" I shouted, pushing my way through the stack of needles and towards my door as best as I could. Even more sharp syringes burrowed their way into various parts of my body. I'd barely reached the door when the effect of the drugs in my system became to much. The foggy haze settled over my mind, dragging me into the depths of unconsciousness._

* * *

_Hands._

_The first thing I was aware of once the awful fog had lifted was that there were hands on my body. More fingers than I could count pulled and grasped at me. I struggled against their painful grasp. Finally, after what seemed like ages of unidentifiable fingers tugging at me, their touch stilled. The feeling of hands on my body didn't go away; but at least they weren't grabbing and yanking at me any longer._

_My eyes snapped open but all I could see was the impenetrable darkness surrounding me._

_"You must learn not to struggle so much," Mark's voice filled my right ear, soothing my nerves. It felt like having a lush comforter of velvet draped over my skin- warm and comforting. The hands from before slipped away and were replaced with his familiar hands. He was behind me, his hands rubbing from my waist to my hips as he guided me back against his chest. "You're shivering."_

_I hadn't even noticed the chill that had sunk deep into my bones. His hands were like a sizzling fire in comparison to the cold that clung to me like a cloak. I could feel warmth spreading across my- surprisingly bare- skin as he touched me. I turned myself around in his arms and looked up into his dark eyes. I'd never seen him appear as serene as he was in that moment. One of his hands came up to cradle my face tenderly._

_"You look as if you've seen a ghost," Mark remarked. I felt as if my throat had closed up, leaving me unable to utter so much as a syllable. Mark leaned down and kissed me gently. His lips were soft and warm against my own. His arms snaked around my waist and pulled me closer. He was very much clothed- unlike me- but I could feel the firmness of his muscles and the heat radiating off of him as if he were a furnace._

_That all encompassing heat could very well have devoured me for as much as I cared._

_In all actuality, I_ craved _that searing fire._

 _My lips moved against his in perfect synchronization and I wondered how I had never experienced a kiss such as this one- a kiss full of_ need _and_ understanding _. The entire feeling was alien to me and yet the more I felt it the more I sought for more. Mark Jefferson's mere existence was enough to wash away the feeling of hands on my skin as his own hands left their burning trail._

_Strobe lights lit up around us and the sound of voices filled the air. I pulled away, effectively breaking the kiss as I cast my eyes around the room. We were back at the "End of the World" Party. Several faceless people danced around us, chattering and laughing as they moved._

_"We never did have a proper dance," Mark whispered into the shell of my ear, instantly regaining my attention. I looked up at him with wide, confused eyes. Dance? I vaguely remembered something about this party. I think I won a contest?_

_"I won the contest?" I stated inquisitively, allowing him to guide my arms up and around his neck. My fingers slid up into his soft, dark hair and tangled into the short locks._

_"A landslide victory," he assured me. "Your photo was inspired, Rio."_

_"My photo?" I prodded, unable to remember what photo I had entered. I didn't even remember entering a contest._

_"I believe you named it 'Lady Death'," Mark reminded me, brushing a lock of my hair behind my ear._

_"I did?" I wracked my brain trying to recall the photo he was speaking of._

_"You must have had too much to drink already," he remarked, pulling away just enough to reach into his pocket. Mark pulled out a photograph from the pocket of his blazer and presented it to me. The strobe lights illuminated the photo and I felt my breath catch in my throat. "Remember now?"_

_My mind was reeling as I took in the image before me. I was standing in the Dark Room with Chloe's corpse at my feet, blood pooling around her forlorn frame. Her eyes were staring up emptily towards the camera lens- devoid of life. A hole that oozed blood stood out in dark contrast to her pale skin. In my hand was a gleaming pistol that was pressed against the top of a petite, short-haired girl's head. The smaller girl was strapped into a chair with her head bowed to where her hair concealed her face like a thin curtain. I could still identify her despite this. My stomach knotted in disgust when I saw the blood spewing out of the back of her skull in the photo._

_I'd been shooting her when this picture had been taken._

_"What the fuck?" I dropped the photo as if it were covered in acid, jerking away from Jefferson. What had I done? I scurried backwards from him when he reached for me but my foot squished into something soft and I was sent reeling. I collapsed against a lumpy, misshapen surface. Groaning, I tried to gain my bearings. One of my hands reached out and felt something soft like...like hair._

_My eyes snapped fully open as I raked my gaze across my surroundings. Where minutes ago there had been a floor, there were now countless corpses. I recognized Stella, Victoria, Nathan, Victoria's cronies, and even Warren among the colossal pile of bodies. Scrambling to my feet, I tried to keep the contents of my stomach inside of my stomach as the stench of blood and decaying flesh met my nose. Holding my hands over my mouth and nose, I stared in horror at the scene before me. Then, my eyes landed on Lex._

_She was sprawled next to a couple of unfamiliar girls and Kate. Her black hair was grey with ash and her ivory skin was covered in soot. I knelt next to her, feeling for a pulse and still trying to shake her back into life when I felt nothing. Her hazel eyes had clouded over into a misty puddle of copper gazing listlessly skywards. I ran my hands along her face, brushing stray hairs out of the way and cleaning off streaks of greasy soot. Lex's mouth was hanging open just a fraction, turned blue from lack of oxygen._

_"No, no, no. NO!" I screamed, pounding my fists against the ground. I felt invisible strings become tangible in my grasp and, without thinking, I pulled. A chord inside of me pulled me forward and all of the light in the room drained away as I was yanked into darkness. I felt myself dragged through the darkness until the chord snapped and I dropped._


	13. How To Save A Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, in the Dark Room, Rio's body has begun convulsing. Mark Jefferson races to protect her from harm.

Max stared on in horror as Mr. Jefferson plunged the needle into Rio's neck. In her drugged state, she couldn't force her limbs to move. The hazy memory of Chloe being gunned down before her was still burning fresh in Max's mind. Rio's body went very still- the parts of it that Max could see, anyway- and Max wanted to hurl herself at Jefferson and claw his eyes out.

"That's my girl," Mr. Jefferson muttered under his breath as he removed the needle. Barely a second after he set the needle on the table, Rio's body arched upwards. She took in a sharp, ragged gasp that made the hairs on the back of Max's neck stand straight. " _Rio_."

Jefferson said her name in a broken whisper as if he could not believe what he was seeing. Sporadically, Rio's limbs began jerking against her restraints. Max heard a sickening _'pop'_ and immediately cringed. Mr. Jefferson moved swiftly, cutting Rio's wrists and ankles free from their bindings. Freed, the limbs began lashing out. Mr. Jefferson deftly guided Rio's limbs without restraining them- managing to protect her despite taking a few hits himself.

Max wasn't sure how long the convulsions went on before Rio's body finally ceased its twitching and spasms. Her eyes had been dutifully trained on a nearby digital clock- flickering between it and Rio sluggishly as she tried to make her brain comprehend the numbers and do the simple math.

"Eleven minutes," Mr. Jefferson muttered, brushing a few stray, damp hairs out of Rio's flushed face. Max noticed his fingers slip down and press at Rio's pulse point. Her breath stilled when Jefferson let out a curse and knelt to the floor beside the couch. His body blocked Max's already blurred view but she thought she recognized the beginnings of repeated chest compression.

"Rio," Max whispered her name, her throat constricting with grief.

Her mind wandered to that night in her room when Rio kissed her. She could still remember the feeling of Rio's lips against her own like brushing against a rose petal. Rio smelled like flowers as well- honeysuckle. Max remembered wondering what kind of shampoo Rio used as she touched her hair. It was always so soft looking and it felt just as velvety to the touch. Rio reminded Max of someone from a film with muted colors.

Max remembered the way her heart ached with worry when Rio fled from her room and never returned that night. She still felt a jab of guilt knowing that Mr. Jefferson nabbed Rio that night. She wondered how things would have gone if she'd gone after Rio immediately rather than freezing up uselessly. Would Rio still be laying on the couch in the Dark Room like a corpse?

Seconds dragged by like minutes and minutes like hours before Jefferson pulled away and Max's heart stopped beating.

 _Rio's dead_ , Max thought. _She's dead and it's all my fault because I couldn't help her._

First Rachel Amber. Then Nathan and Chloe. Now Rio?" How many people was Jefferson going to massacre in his twisted pursuit of 'art'? How long would it be before he injected Max with just a _bit_ too much of the drug. When would he train his gun on her?

Max heard Rio take in a sharp gasp of breath and Max's heart restarted.

_Rio._

* * *

My eyes peeled open and I groggily turned my head from side to side. It felt as if someone had beaten the shit out of me. I felt the dredges of the nightmares clinging to my mind like cobwebs. I struggled to gain my bearings. There was so much _white_ everywhere. I tried to pull myself up into a seated position but my muscles felt like lead. My head lolled to one side and I noticed the blurry shape of Max coming into focus. She was strapped to the chair but her eyes were open.

"Rio? Are you awake?" Max asked, noticing my movement. I tried to speak but all that came out was a crackle of useless choking noises and air. "Don't strain yourself."

Memories sifted to the surface of my mind of me photographing Max and Jefferson kissing me. Had all of that still occurred? I rolled my head back and stared up at the ceiling as I cleared my throat.

"Rio?" Max prodded. An image flashed in my mind's eye- Max on her knees with her brains spewing out from the back of her skull. I felt my stomach knot up with nausea.

"We're going to die here," I croaked.

"No, we're not going to die here, Rio. We'll make it out. I promise," Max declared. I heard the sound of her struggling against her bindings. "I think I can get my foot free."

"No one escapes the Dark Room," I muttered despondently. Rolling onto my side, I settled my gaze on Max. She was pulling at the tape on her right ankle that strapped her to the chair. A metal tray was sitting barely a foot away from her with a red binder laying across its surface. I realized a moment too late what Max was going to do. Her foot pulled free and she stretched out her leg to hook her ankle around the leg of the trolley.

"Oh my god," Max breathed, her eyes glued to the contents of the binder. I wondered fleetingly if the photo I had took of Max was in there or if it was never taken after all. "There's one with you in it, Rio."

"I could...go back in time," Max offered. "I could fix things."

"Last time you went back in time, my sister died," I griped, rolling my muscles. A series of crackling and popping noises came from my joints. My memory was piecing itself together piece by piece. I'd gone back in time and Jefferson had injected me.

GHB was known for causing seizures in rare cases. It was only a matter of time before I reacted negatively to the drug. It was more than that, however. I tried to return to the present and it didn't work- at least not at first. I was too fragile.

If I kept using my time powers, I was going to die.

_"Everyone dies. Some of us just die... a little more dramatically."_

"I'm sorry, Rio," Max apologized.

"So am I, Max," I admitted, pulling myself up into a seated position. I knew what needed to go down. Rising from the couch, I shakily made my way over to the small table that held Max's journal. "I'm going to save you, okay?"

"Rio? What are you doing?" Max asked, struggling against her restraints. I opened up the journal and caught sight of Max's entry.

_I met this girl named Rio today. She has a twin sister! How cool is that? I actually talked to her and... I think I made a friend? She dresses kind of like a punk but she's actually really cool._

A small smile pulled at my lips and I plucked up Max's selfie. It was the one she took on the first day of classes- the day that she discovered she could rewind time. Mark's voice whispered to me through the photo- his irritating lecture was in full swing. I waltzed over to Max and held out the photograph to her.

"I trust you. Go back in time and change things. Catch the bastard," I ordered. "Don't let him get away with what hid did to us- to me."

"Rio," Max whispered. I heard the vault door beginning to open and I ripped the duct tape off of Max's wrist. She took the photograph in her hand but didn't cease the confused look she was giving me.

"He's coming, Max. Mark is coming and he's going to kill you," I informed her, taking a knee in front of her. "I'm saving you. Now it's your turn."

Max looked down at the photograph and I smiled encouragingly at her. I knew she could do this. My hand rested on hers- the one that was still bound to the chair.

"You can do this," I assured her. Like the flash of a camera, the world bled white until I couldn't see beyond the bright vastness of it.

* * *

The scene unfolded before me just as it was on that day. Jefferson was leaning against a desk with his eyes zeroed in on Max as he spoke.

 _I came back with her,_ I realized with a start. When my hand rested on Max's, I'd somehow linked myself to her and returned back into the past at her side. I took a moment to gather myself and scrutinized the items laid out across my desk. My blue notebook and a few of my fine point pens were set out before me. Perhaps I could leave myself a message that could fix everything. I took up a pen and opened up my notebook to the first page. In pristine ink, I scrawled out a message to myself.

_Protect Max. Don't go into the Dark Room. Junkyard- Thursday night._

Breathing a sigh of relief, I remembered something from the fiery nightmare.

_"You couldn't just let her go. You had to **save** her. Well guess what? **You fucked up**."_

_Save her?_ I pondered on the statement, looking over at Max. A memory itched in the back of mind- one that was from a long time ago and seemed so irrelevant until this point. It was from long before Max and the Dark Room.

Before my first seizure.

"...can you _please_ tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?" Jefferson inquired in his commanding, yet soft, voice- effectively pulling my attention away from the memory.

"The Daguerrian Process," Max answered coolly. Her eyes were dark and the vengeful angel aura was burning around her so brightly that I felt like it might blind me. Mark appeared to be equally taken aback by Max's curt reply. I looked down at my desk and tried to remember what I was missing.

_"Get a picture of me here, Rio!"_

_Lex?_ I looked wildly around. A memory began taking form in my mind's eye. Closing my eyes, I let the memory surface. It was six months ago- a relaxed afternoon hike in April...

* * *

_"You're going to be one of the best photographers in the country one day," Lex decided as we hiked. We'd abandoned the trail ages ago and were now just picking our way through the bushes and trees- choosing our directions on whims and "gut-feelings" rather than consulting a map or compass. Lex's hand was full of photos she had taken throughout the day with her instant camera. Her love of nature and all things vibrant driving her to photograph anything and everything that caught her eye. I was a bit more choosy with my photos. My gaze fell to the screen of my camera. It was a beaten up hunk of digital junk; but it was my baby. I examined the few photos I took so far._

_One was of Lex laying in the grass of a clearing we stumbled upon in the early morning. Drops of dew were visible on the blades of grass and Lex was practically glowing as she gazed up listlessly at the clouds In the next photo, Lex was hanging from a tree limb by her legs. Warm midday sunlight was pouring down on her from above and making the long curtain of black hair glimmer as if it were brown. Her long, slender hands were reaching towards the ground below her- towards a vibrant blue wildflower that had caught her eye. The third image was just Lex holding up her camera to take a photo of me. Just underneath the shape of her camera, you could make out her teeth biting into her lower lip in concentration. Sunlight filtered in through the leaves of the trees behind her in the photo. I wasn't sure I could have taken a better shot if I had had professional equipment._

_"I don't care about being one of the best. That means having to produce the photos people want rather than the photos I want," I replied as I picked up my walking pace a bit to match hers. We fell into step beside one another naturally. A perfect fit._

_"Ah yes. Rio the anarchist photographer out to revolutionize world views one head shot at a time," Lex teased me, needling me in the side with her finger._

_"Much better than 'Lex the hippiest of hipsters'; Queen of the flower pics," I retorted._

_"Yea, yea, yea. Make fun. One day I'm going to get the perfect shot," Lex brushed me off. "And, meanwhile, you can take more of your narcissistic photos of me."_

_"How on earth are they narcissistic?" I asked._

_"Well, we look alike so maybe you're expressing your narcissism by taking photos of me instead of yourself. That way you can try to disguise just how in love you are with your own appearance," Lex explained jokingly. I bumped my shoulder against hers._

_"Come on, Lex. You know I can't pose like you do," I informed her._

_"I'm going to have to start charging you modeling fees if you keep this up," Lex threatened. I heard the sound of rushing water. Lex perked up at the sound as well and we both exchanged a look. "Is that a waterfall?"_

_"We must have gotten farther off course then I thought," I shrugged, moving forward in the direction of the sound. When we broke out of the trees, Lex and I found ourselves on a cliff that jutted out about halfway down a towering waterfall. It was a monstrous beast of nearly deafening proportions._   
_The scenery around the waterfall was heart-achingly beautiful. Mossy rocks bordered the torrent of water. Flowers of various colors and shapes bloomed around our feet. Sunlight streamed down on us from above, reflecting off of the water._

_"This is... beautiful," Lex whispered, moving towards the edge of where we were standing and peering over. "Rio, come look!"_

_I edged over to her and looked down. Where the waterfall met the small river below us, there were piles of various rocks of different shades that I couldn't distinguish this high up._

_My fingers itched towards the camera hanging from my neck. I stepped away from the edge and looked around, trying to find the perfect shot. I was so distracted I didn't notice that Lex had crept too close to the edge._

_"Get a picture of me here, Rio!" Lex shouted over the sound of rushing water. I lifted my camera and lined up the shot._

_"Say cheese!" I yelled back sarcastically. My camera went off- its flash strangely bright. I didn't even hear Lex's feet scrape against the rock's damp surface until she screamed._

_"Lex!" I reached forward but what was mere feet might as well have been miles between our outstretched hands. She tumbled backwards over the edge and I found myself dropping my camera to the ground to dive after her. There was no rationality to my actions. I went over the side of the rock and suddenly the world went blinding white._


	14. Photographic Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rio races to find a way to save Max even as Max acts on her own in the interest of protecting Chloe. Rio begins to draw comfort from an unlikely source.

I looked up to see Max squaring off against Victoria. The fire of an archangel was billowing around her. She was a force to be reckoned with. My mind strayed to the memory- to the meaning behind it. Similar to when Max hit a hard reset to save Chloe, I hit a hard reset to save Lex that day in April. The details of _how_ alluded me.

_"Some people are meant to die."_

I watched Max hand over her photo to Jefferson and returned my attention to my notebook. I needed to make sure that whatever message I left for myself would make an impact.

"God dammit," I cursed.

Scribbling out my original message, I scrawled out a new one in its place.

_April 22nd. Don't trust Jefferson. Protect Max._

Glancing back up, I saw Max look back at me. An understanding passed between the two of us. Max had made her change to the timeline. Mark followed Max's gaze and his lips pulled up into a smile. Even from this far, I could feel a magnetic pull- a _connection_ \- with him.

"Rio! Please come on up. I'd love to talk with you for a moment about the Everyday Heroes Contest," Jefferson called to me. I clutched my book to my chest as I approached him and the world around me dissolved into multiple spots of white like a photo burning up in the sunlight.

* * *

_Still life photographs appeared before me in succession._

_Chloe standing over Nathan in the bathroom- ready to flee for her life. It was burnt up but then restored before my very eyes._

_Lex and I goofing off as we trounced through the graveyard. The photograph burned away and was replaced with a shot of police raiding the Dark Room._

What's going on? _I wondered, trying to comprehend the meaning behind the photograph._

_Another photograph appeared as that one fluttered away. It was Kate Marsh standing on the ledge of the dormitory roof- one step away from eternal freedom. Flames licked at the edges until they consumed the photograph and in its place a picture of Jefferson being led through the halls by armed officers appeared._

Mark.

_Another photograph appeared- Mark and me dancing outside at the End of the World bash with two twin moons glimmering in the sky behind us. It crumbled away to ashes and the photo that replaced it was of Max holding up a blown up version of her photograph that she'd apparently entered into the contest._

_A fifth photograph appeared and it was of Jefferson kneeling next to me on the couch. I noticed a damp rag in his left hand pressed against my temple and then the picture burst into flames and was replaced with a photograph of me making my way up a somewhat familiar trail._

* * *

I held my breath as the world burst into color around me. I was standing at the top of the cliff next to the lighthouse from the vision Max and I had. Rain peppered my cheeks like tiny, freezing knives. I was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a loose dream catcher tank that whipped in the howling wind. There was a roaring monster of a tornado ripping through the bay. Grabbing my phone, I lucked out having one bar of LTE service.

"Come on, Max. Pick up," I begged, deftly tapping away before pressing the phone to my ear. I sat down on the bench in an attempt to calm myself. There was no escaping the storm at this point. The vision came to fruition despite Max's efforts. She'd failed to fix things.

 _What did we get wrong?_ I wondered as my phone ringed uselessly. Max's voicemail began and I promptly hung up and hit redial. I continued to attempt to take in everything that was happening. It was all...chaos.

Chaos.

"Chaos Theory," I gasped in realization. We changed something in the past and it had very dramatic repercussions on our present and future. We were so transfixed on Rachel and the Dark Room that we missed something vital. We missed-

_"You **fucked** up!"_

Lex tumbling backwards over the edge of the cliff appeared in my mind's eye alongside the audio of Chloe being shot by Nathan. Max saved Chloe that day the same way that I saved Lex- by messing with the original timeline. We played God with the lives of those around us. It wasn't until she saved Chloe that the timeline fully deteriorated.

"We can only save one of them," I realized as Max's voicemail began. I ended the call and set my phone down beside me on the bench. Max was somewhere- probably in San Francisco. She would call me back when she saw the missed calls.

 _If_ I live that long.

_"Get a picture of me here, Rio!"_

"I won't leave her to die," I growled, trying to find a solution to the chaos problem. "Chloe has to die."

My phone began ringing- a dim trill against the sound of my impending doom. I lifted it and wiped away the rain. Max's name was blazoned across the screen accusingly- as if she knew that I decided to trade Chloe's life for my sister's. I answered the call.

"Max?!" I shouted over the roaring storm.

"Rio-schh-'s-rrrk-ng on?" Max's voice came through- only occasionally cutting through the static.

"I can't hear you! Max, I thought you were going to fix everything?!" I yelled into the mic, hoping that she could hear me. "You need to go back. _Fix this_. The storm is here and it is going to kill _everyone_."

"I'll-shhr-thi-rrshk-o," Max replied choppily. The line died as my service bar hit zero and I swore. Staring out at the storm, I watched a row boat go flying and followed its path until it hit the lighthouse.

"Well fuck," I muttered as the lighthouse crunched and its top came barreling down on me. I felt a vast amount of pain as every bone in my body cracked and snapped and then I felt nothing.

* * *

I took a sharp inhale of air as my eyes snapped open and my vision cleared to reveal, yet again, the ceiling of the Dark Room. My heart was pounding in my throat and my eyes stung with unshed tears. As I took in the familiar surface of the off white ceiling, I felt my breathing begin to steady. There was something eerily _calming_ about the Dark Room. It was familiar and stable.

"It's such a pity. You've been braver this week than you have probably in your whole life," Mark was saying off to my left. My head lolled to the side and I tried to keep the contents of my stomach _in_ my stomach. Mark was facing the chair I assumed Max to be in- his back to me completely. "I've really enjoyed our last session together, Max."

"Max," I repeated the name- sounding it out in my brain as a hazy image of a girl with a soft face and pale blue eyes surfaced. What did he mean by 'last session'?

"Rio," Mark spoke, turning his body towards mine. His mouth quirked up a bit in a small grin and I felt my stomach flip at the sight of the camera in his hands. If I made it out of the Dark Room, I was never going to touch a camera ever again. "You're awake."

"Leave her alone," Max ordered- seemingly very awake in comparison to my last altercations with the petite brunette.

"Max, the adults are talking," Mark chided her, walking over to me and kneeling across the coffee table from me. To my surprise, I didn't feel the insatiable urge to scoot away from him. His presence was almost comforting.

"Yea, Max. The adults are talking," I affirmed his statement, pulling myself up into a sitting position even as my head spun and my stomach tied itself into knots. Mark's smiled widened barely enough to notice. A slight smile pulled at the corner of my lips. "Mark, I'm very thirsty."

"Of course you are!" Mark acknowledged, setting his camera down upon the coffee table and leaning over it to kiss me softly on the forehead. The small peck of his lips was tender and warm. "I'll get you a glass of ice water."

"Thank you," I smiled politely and Mark went through the divider and into the other room to supposedly grab a bottle of water for me. I stared across the room at Max- wondering what she thought of the encounter. The tethers of time that I felt during Kate's attempt at her own life tingled beneath my fingertips and I deftly spun them around my long, thin fingers before pulling. The sound of water coming from the faucet in the other room slows and then stopped. Dust particles that were once dancing among the harsh glare of the lights ceased movement.

"You froze time again," Max remarked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Her right ankle was still free from restraints.

"I need to know what changes you made to the timeline, Max," I bypassed her remark in favor of pursuing the new subject. It was time to put all of the time traveling to rest- to fix the problem once and for all. I could only handle so much more of the strain upon my body.

"I texted David Madsen- the security officer at Blackwell- about Mr. Jefferson. I guess that in that timeline-"

"Jefferson got arrested and you won the Everyday Heroes Contest," I stated plainly. "Oh, and I died. Again. That seems to be a recurring theme. Every time you mess with time, I die."

"I'm not _trying_ to get you killed, Rio," Max argued, her face turning an angry shade of red. I felt the invisible fibers strain against my grip. I wanted to trust Max- I _needed_ to- but there was too much holding me back. I gave her her chance and all she proved was that her priorities did not align with mine. Max wanted to save Chloe- not Arcadia Bay.

"No, you're trying to save Chloe and get revenge on Mark instead of figuring out the problem. Mark isn't the problem, Max- the storm is," I countered, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. I felt much more comfortable holding back the tide of time now than I did the first time. This time I was not carrying the stress of Kate's life upon my shoulders. I just needed a few minutes.

Just a few minutes to collect my thoughts.

"Why do you call him Mark?" Max asked, her face twisting in confusion and betrayal. I recalled what I said to her. I did call him Mark- several times- and without having the threat of him lashing out at me.

"Just because you're asleep doesn't mean that things don't change, Max," I whispered, recalling the altercation between Mark and myself. Max was so concentrated on my use of his first name that she was missing the point.

"What changed, Rio? Are you suddenly _okay_ with everything he's done to Kate and Chloe- to _me_ \- now that you're his little _pet_?" Max spat. The word 'pet' was like a slap across the face or the feeling of someone dumping ice water down the back of my shirt. My blood ran cold in my veins.

"What about what he's done to _me_?" I growled, unable to contain the angry tears that trailed down from my eyes. "He _murdered_ me, Max. He's drugged me more times than I can count. He's _touched_ me and _kissed_ me and _ruined_ me!"

" _Rio_."

"But it's not about me, is it Max? It's about you and your precious _Chloe_ ," I snapped and the chords wrapped around my fingers seemed to vibrate beneath my touch. "Mark isn't the problem Max. It's _you_."

Max looked as if I punched her in the stomach. I felt the darkness that lurked in the back of my mind festering as if it were agitated.

 _Max doesn't care about you- not the way that I do,_ Mark's voice whispered in my mind. I felt the strings begin to writhe in my hand as if they were contorting in pain. I didn't even feel the burning agony that was racing through the muscles in my arm like a fiery rod. _She would put you in the grave in Chloe's place in an instant._

"You would put me in that shallow grave in Chloe's place, Max. Wouldn't you?" I reasoned, feeling as if the warmth had fled my body. My chest twisted with pain as if my heart were shattering into fragments and piercing through the muscle and tissue like daggers. The metaphorical blood bubbled up my throat in the form of words. "Mark understands me- you don't. You're just a _child_ , Max. A child fucking around with a power she never should have gotten."

"Rio, you have to listen to-"

"I don't have to do anything Max- not for you," I interrupted her, unable to even stomach looking at her anymore.

"Rio, there's something wrong with you. You're not well," Max insisted in a pleading tone.

"No Max, I'm not well," I agreed. My world was crumbling around me and everything felt dark and cold. As if sensing my spiral into the darkness, a familiar earthy scent drifted on the breeze. I could recall the number of freckles that dusted across Max's nose and cheeks and how soft her hair was as my fingertips threaded through it. "Do you remember when I kissed you?"

There was a long pause and then, "Yes."

"I'm so sorry Max," I whispered. I looked for a way out- a photograph that I could slip through. Max's journal was laying against the wall- burnt to a crisp as if Mark had gone into angry fit and torched the whole thing. "I don't know who I am anymore."

_I understand you, Rio._

The strings slipped out of my hands and became intangible once again. The sound of water gushing from the faucet resumed as if it never stopped. I could feel Max's eyes on me- burning holes through my skin one layer at a time before the faucet tapered off. Mark strode back into the room with a glass of water in hand and eyes only for me. Looking up into his eyes, I felt a sudden calm wash over me as I met his gaze. The dark, almost black, irises saw straight to my very core and I saw a reflection of myself in his shadowy pupils.

"Rio, you look pale," Mark commented, coming forward to kneel before me. He pressed the rim of the glass to my mouth and tilted it. I took a small sip- enjoying the refreshing chill of the water coursing down my throat. I felt very light headed- as if my equilibrium was thrown out the window and then someone shook me around. After a moment, Mark pulled the glass away from my mouth and reached up to caress my cheek. I rested my face into his palm, relishing the warmth of his skin.

Max's presence faded into the back of my mind despite the fact that I had no doubt that she was watching the scene unfolding before her. Even if the timeline changed, Max would very likely have memories of the alternate timelines.

"Thank you," I whispered. Mark smiled and leaned forward, brushing his lips against mine. I was already so accustomed to him kissing me that I didn't hesitate to meet him halfway. I could feel him smile against my lips.

"Tell me you love me," Mark requested, his fingers tilting my chin upwards so that I was forced to meet his gaze. I didn't mind the angle. My eyes were drawn to his. There was something deep and unfathomable about the darkness that lurked in his soul. It was like walking into my childhood home- familiar and comforting yet strange.

"I love you."


	15. How The Tables Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark makes his move to kill Max and Rio finally snaps.

I couldn't believe that the words left my mouth.

 _What is wrong with me?_ I wondered. Mark's face broke out in a smile and he leaned down to meet my lips with his own. I didn't fight or even protest the kiss. Mark's hands slipped- tracing the soft curve of my jaw and then reaching up to tangle into my knotted hair. There wasn't anything desperate or harsh about this kiss. It was soft and full of _love_. My stomach stirred and I couldn't tell if it was the butterflies feeling or the 'I'm going to vomit' kind of feeling.

"God, you're fantastic," Mark exclaimed as he broke the kiss. His forehead pressed against my own and his espresso breath fanned across my cheeks. I inhaled the scent as if it were nicotine.

"Now there's just one thing left for me to do," Mark stated, rising up and walking over to his desk. I turned and spotted the syringe that he was sticking into the vial of GHB.

"What are you doing?" I asked, immediately growing apprehensive. As soon as his fingers brushed the plunger of the syringe, I felt a chill run across my skin and the hairs on my neck rise. Mark finished off filling the needle- a dose way larger than the ones he'd been giving me. A deadly dose. He strode right past me and towards Max.

_"I've really enjoyed our last session together, Max."_

_No._

Despite my fury at Max, I couldn't silently watch him murder her right in front of me.

I hesitated to say his name. "Mark?"

_When did I become so afraid of him?_

"What is it, Rio?" he sighed, turning to face me. The warmth from before had frosted over. He was a cold Mark- the same Mark that killed Chloe and Nathan. The sudden change set me on edge. I felt like a cornered animal. The syringe flashed in the light and I knew I was powerless against him. Even if I could stop time again, there was no way Max could free herself and I had yet to experiment with moving whilst using my abilities.

"Please don't," I whispered. It felt like my chest was caving in. There was nothing I could do to stop Mark. He held all of the power in this room. If he decided to turn and kill Max, there was nothing I could do about it.

"I'm only doing what is necessary, Rio. You'll understand," Mark dismissed my plea.

_"I texted David Madsen."_

I heard it- a faint sound on the other side of the vault door. If I hadn't been listening, I could have missed it completely. I returned my full attention to Mark. If I could keep his attention on me, Max would be safe.

"At least let me say goodbye?" I requested, lifting myself from the couch. My knees very nearly buckled beneath my weight, but I managed to steady myself. That adrenaline I felt on that first day- during Max's vision when her name had spurred me on- was running through my veins. Mark sighed again, but he moved away from Max.

"Go ahead. I'm going to put on some music," Mark informed me as he set the needle down on a nearby tray and moved over to his music system.

_Now I'm a Little Bit Crazy  
_ _Out Of My Mind_

_He has got to be joking,_ I insisted. Max seemed to be thinking along the same lines as me. I walked around the coffee table and glanced warily over my shoulder. Mark was reclining on the couch, watching me like a hawk. I looked back to Max and tried to ignore the pair of dark brown eyes burning a hole in my back. _  
_

_I'm Only Slightly Strange_ _in the Head  
It's All a Little Bit Hazy_

"Please, don't let him kill me," Max begged, tears pricking her stormy blue eyes. I knelt before her and then leaned forward, wrapping my arms around her small frame.

_But I'm Pretty Sure_   
_I'm Gonna Stay Screwy Instead_

"I would never let that happen, Max," I whispered, pulling away from her. Then, louder, I said, "Goodbye, Caulfield."

"Goodbye, Rio," Max replied- confusion mingling with pain in her eyes.

I returned to the couch and sat beside Mark, reaching up to brush back some of his hair. It was surprisingly soft- not as soft as Max's.

_And I'm A little Bit_   
_Koo-Koo_   
_Ka-ka_   
_Slightly Deranged_

"It'll all work out, my dear," Mark assured me. He kissed me and I almost jumped as I heard the vault door finally creak open. I pulled back from Mark and shouted with all of my might, "David, watch out!"

_Barking up The Wrong Tree_   
_Maybe The World Would Be A Happier Place_   
_If Everybody got Crazy Like Me_

"What?" Max arched an eyebrow at me. I heard Mark curse beside me and then felt the harsh sting of the back of his hand across the left side of my face. The force of the hit sent me sprawling into the coffee table and one of its legs fractured beneath my weight. Mark rushed over and hefted up a fire extinguisher. His eyes burned into me.

"We'll talk about this later," he promised before returning his attention to the intruder. David came creeping around the corner and narrowly dodged Mark's first strike with the extinguisher. He pulled out his gun and aimed it at Mark and Mark deftly knocked it from his hand. The two tussled before Mark picked up the discarded bottle of scotch and knocked it against David's head. I struggled to move but it felt as if at least one of my ribs was broken. David was disoriented as he tumbled to the floor but he seized the opportunity to snatch up his gun. Mark was already to the other side of the room- grabbing a revolver off of the shelf.

The two squared off against one another and there was a loud _bang_. My ears were ringing as I took in the scene. Max was screaming and a body was laying in a pool of blood on my right. David was dead.

"Max, rewind!" I coughed, struggling onto my side. Max lifted her head and I felt the all-too-familiar pressure of time warping around me. Time restarted as Mark rushed over to grasp the fire extinguisher. Again, he shot me an angry glare.

"We'll talk about this later."

"Fuck. You," I grunted under my breath as I clutched my rib. It hurt to breathe- as if my lungs suddenly had 73% less room to move. My fingers ran over the left side of my chest. Three ribs up from the bottom- I found the problem. I struggled to my feet and heard my blood pounding in my ears. White spots blossomed to life in my field of vision.

"Rio," Max called out to me but her voice came through as if there was cotton in my ears. I fumbled my way towards Mark. Time was running out- I felt the strings of it around me as if they were becoming tangible.

Then the surreal happened.

The threads began to stretch and curve around me. I could see them- like cinematic film. Various outcomes and scenarios flickered by me. As I moved, several lines of film twisted and then began burning away. Those timelines turned to ash that drifted away on a breeze I couldn't feel. I saw several snapshots of David's prone form on the ground. Three that involved a bullet in Mark's skull. One that involved David and Max's blood mingling on the floor as I stood amidst the crimson lake.

Somehow, I reached Mark before David even made it to the translucent divider. I turned his head towards mine and brought my lips up to his. I heard the crash of the extinguisher against the floor as I wound my arms around his neck and pulled him down to me. His chest pressing against mine caused a sharp twinge of pain in my left side. I gasped a bit into the kiss.

"Stay right where you are!" David Madsen demanded. Mark shoved me out of the way and I fell onto my backside. I felt a harsh, tearing pain in my left side and bit my lip to swallow my scream. The world went shades of milky white and grey around me. I heard muffled shouting and a loud 'pop'. Someone was touching me- their hands were wrapped around my arms. One of the hands moved to wipe my hair out of my face. Everything was _hurting_.

There was a deep, rumbling voice and then I felt someone lift me. The stiff surface of the couch met my back as I was lowered onto it. Something very cold was pressed against my injured side and I almost cried from the slight relief. My vision started to clear a bit.

"Is she going to be okay?" Max asked. I turned my head to see her. David Madsen was bent over me, adjusting an ice pack against my rib. Max was at his side with her blue eyes wide with concern.

"It looks like your friend fractured her rib, Max," Madsen informed Max. He seemed to notice my sudden alertness. "Take it easy, kid. You move wrong and you could puncture a lung."

"Mark," I grunted, trying to look beyond him. I spotted the portrait of a girl seemingly tearing out the insides of her own throat. Right in the middle of her forehead was a bullet-sized crater with cracks webbing out from the place of impact.

"Mr. Jefferson couldn't move fast enough with you distracting him. David totally took him down," Max explained. She stepped aside just a bit and I saw him.

Mark was laying across the floor with his wrists and ankles tied up with the very duct tape he used on Max and me. His glasses were missing, exposing his face. Without the glasses, and in his unconscious state, he looked strangely vulnerable. I felt a strange tug in my chest at the sight of him in such a desolate state. Blood oozed from his nose and into his goatee. He looked...defeated.

"The police will be here to get him soon," Madsen stated, rising to his feet. "I'm going to see what I can find on his computer."

I waited for David Madsen to walk away before looking at Max.

"Does he know?" I asked, straining to readjust myself. I almost couldn't bare to look at Max. Where there was once a spark in her eyes, now there was only dark determination. Mark had changed her.

_No one leaves the Dark Room unscathed._

"He doesn't need to know. I'm going to find Warren. He has a picture of him and me from the End of the World Party. If I can get it, I can go back and warn Chloe. Then maybe I can convince her not to go to the Junkyard. She'll find you and we'll all go back to her house to watch a shitty movie or something," Max insisted in a hushed tone so that Officer Paranoia couldn't hear her.

"I was already inside the party by then, Max," I informed her. "You can't risk going in there after me."

"I'd do anything for you, Rio," Max claimed, getting up from her squatted position. "Just stay here."

 _It's not like I have another choice,_ I mentally groaned. I was, yet again, stuck on Mark's fucking couch. _I hate this couch._

"Just, please, be careful," I begged. I recalled my argument with Max. Every fiber of my being wanted to stop her, but Mark had basically benched me. Ironic, since I was the one _not_ aiming to send him to prison. I just wanted to restore the original timeline. My mind wandered to the strips of film that I had seen- different timelines. By acting, I negated several possible timelines. I remembered the surreal feeling of time flowing around me- as if I were separate from it somehow.

Now, all I could do was wait.

David eventually made his way back over to me.

"I'm having some trouble getting a call out of here. Probably because of the storm. When it clears up, we'll be able to get some one out here. We should be able to get some paramedics out here and they can get you to a hospital," David Madsen ensured me.

"Thanks, chief," I replied, grateful for the update. I wondered what Max was up to now. Obviously, she was still out searching for Warren. As much as I hated the Dark Room, it was much safer than what was going on above ground.

"Rio, about what I saw when I came in here...," David trailed off and I squeezed my eyes shut against the memory. I betrayed Mark. "What you did- it was very brave."

My eyes snapped open in response to his statement.

_Brave?_

"I can barely stomach looking at that creep. If it wasn't for what you did, I could very well be dead," Officer Madsen admitted. "And the same goes for Max."

There was a long silence after that as I took in what he said.

I reached up and touched my lips, recalling the feeling of Mark's mouth on mine. My insides twisted themselves into a knot.

"I've got him tied up. He can't hurt you anymore," David assured me. "Do you think you'll be fine down here for a moment? I'm gonna head up top and see if I can get some signal."

"Okay," I grunted, closing my eyes and relaxing into the couch. David left my side and I heard the sound of the vault door opening. There was another long, stale silence. Then I heard a groan from back in the corner. I looked over there and saw Mark shifting. His eyelids slowly fluttered open and he began moving onto his side.

"Wha-?" he moaned. I felt that same tie between us as I did before when he looked up and my eyes met his. "Rio?"

My mouth ran dry at the sound of my name leaving his mouth. His eyebrows furrowed at the center and he tugged at his restraints as if he did not yet comprehend in predicament.

"Madsen," Mark griped as he ceased moving.

" _Officer_ Madsen isn't as stupid as you thought," I pointed out, struggling to hide my wince.

"You're in pain?" Mark noticed.

"Yea. I guess you broke one of my ribs when you knocked me into that table," I remarked, unable to tear my gaze away from him. I recalled the way he tenderly dressed my injury in his classroom. He'd been so sweet then- even if I hadn't noticed. I was far too preoccupied with Max to notice much of anything that Mark was doing.

 _Yet again, another example of how Max is going to get me killed,_ I thought.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Rio," Mark claimed, his dark brown eyes completely open to me.

"But you did," I replied in a monotone. I just couldn't bring myself to be angry with him. I felt completely numb to the world- even to Mark Jefferson. "You broke my rib."

"And you got my ass kicked by Officer Douche," Mark pointed out. I shot him a glare. "So I guess we're even."

I thought back to my encounter with Nathan when I had said nearly those exact words to Mark. I noticed the smirk he wore- it clashed against the pathetic, bloodied up look he had been sporting moments ago. Every rational part of me wanted to be angry- pissed, even- but I felt a strange sensation bubble up in my chest. It pushed its way upwards and, before I knew it, I was _laughing_.

The kind of laughter that makes your stomach hurt and a broken rib feel like a dagger in the side. Four days ago, I was just a regular kid going to some over-rated school because my sister wanted to. Four days ago, I only wanted to get a passing grade in Photography. Four days ago, I met Mark Jefferson.

And now?

Now I was comparing battle wounds with him and he's declaring us 'even'.

"I think we are _far_ from even," I countered, raising an eyebrow as I struggled through the painful laughter.

"I was wrong about you," Mark remarked as his laughter subsided. "I thought you were special- that you could _see_."

"I see perfectly fine," I quipped, wincing at the pain in my side. The ice pack had somewhat numbed the area, but the injury was still there. "But please, give me even more reasons to testify against you in court."

"I was right on that part- you are just like me. You're just...too young. I pushed too much on you too quickly. I understand that. God, you must be a mess in there," he continued as if he didn't hear me. "That darkness- that overwhelming feeling of pitch black _nothingness_ in your chest."

"You can fight it all you want, but it will inevitably consume you," Mark informed me. The longer he was awake, the more he talked. The more he talked, the more I wanted to kick him in his teeth.

"Okay, _Mark_. I'll bite," I replied, taking the bait. "Supposing we are 'cut from the same cloth'. What makes you and me so different from the rest of the world? Why do we have to succumb to this darkness? Why are we the villains?"

"We are terribly real," Mark informed me. "A terribly real _thing_ in a terribly false world. That is why we exist in such an intense state of constant darkness and pain, Rio."

"We are not _villains_. We are artists," Mark finished, staring at me intently and yet off into the distance at the same time. I looked at him and the pain in my side seemed to drift to the back of my mind. I lifted myself up from the couch and made my way over to the metal cart. The syringe was still resting there- loaded almost three-fourths of the way full of a clear fluid. It looked so harmless. My hand brushed the syringe and I lifted into my hand.

"You're absolutely right, Mark," I acknowledged, carrying the syringe with the glass pinched between two fingers and my thumb resting on the plunger. I lowered myself to my knees in front of him and watched him watching me. His eyes didn't leave mine- not even for a moment. My free hand reached out and I caressed the side of his face. "Let's make art together, Mark."

"Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit."


	16. The Final Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rio receives advice from a surprising source and decides to act in the interest of saving the Bay.

The camera felt molded to my had- a perfect fit. It felt like an extension of not only my arm but my eyes. I could see Mark through a whole new light. His face was softer and less intimidating through a lens. Suddenly, he was just another subject for me to capture. His bravado and hipster references could no longer shield him from the rest of the world.

"You were right, Mr. Jefferson. The slightly unconscious model really is the most open and honest," I admitted, taking the picture. Before standing fully, I knelt down and brushed back some of his hair that had fallen into his face. I walked over to his printer and hooked up the camera. My fingers ached to delete the photographs of Max that he had yet to print off. No one needed to see them. There was plenty of evidence.

I deleted every last photo of Max off of his camera from their 'last session'. Then I began printing my own photograph. It was a real home run- a one hit wonder. I printed off two copies and then made my way over to Mark's prone figure. His chest was still moving with each breath- but the movements were growing shallower. I knelt down and slipped one of the photographs into the back pocket of his dark wash jeans.

"Don't drop the soap, you prick," I croaked as my injury started to flare up. I was going to need medical help soon- that is, if Max didn't find away to change the timeline.

 _How much longer before Max reaches Warren? When is David coming back?_ I wondered, shuffling my way over to the translucent curtain and peeking around the corner. David had shut the vault door against the storm. I let out a sigh. I'd had enough of the Dark Room. I thought of my phone. Mark should have brought it with me to the Dark Room. If I could find it, I could at least see if Lex had been trying to contact me. Maybe I would be able to get up top and get out a call to her and make sure she was safe. I made my way over to his desk- slowly so as not to agitate my injury further. _Of all things, he had to break my fucking rib._

My hand fumbled to open the drawer and I found my phone resting next to a stack of manila envelopes. Other objects littered the bottom of the drawer.

A bracelet of strung pearls- the real, expensive kind. A silver crucifix on a thin, black chain. A cheap ring with the initials E.G. scrawled across the band.

A pair of feather earrings as blue as sapphires.

_Rachel Amber._

My fingers brushed one of the earrings and I felt a shiver run up my arm.

"You actually killed the prick," an unfamiliar voice remarked. I turned- too quickly- to find its source. A girl was leaning over Mark's body with her back to me. All I could see was the read plaid of her shirt and some of her long, dirty blonde hair. In some lighting, it almost appeared to be light brown. She stood her full height- which really wasn't that tall. Maybe 5' 5" at the most. Her hair nestled between her shoulder blades. "I'm glad he's dead."

 _He's dead?_ I wondered. I hadn't injected him with all of the drug he had filled the syringe with. _How much was he putting in Max?_

"Well maybe he's not quite _dead_. He's as good as though," she chirped. "Oh, this is just _wonderful_."

"Who are you?" I asked, searching in my peripheral vision for a weapon of some sort to defend myself with.

"Oh, right. We never really met, did we? I'm Rachel Amber," the girl answered, finally turning to face me. Her face was angular; but not the harsh kind of angular. Every curve was soft. She looked as if she had just stepped out of a photo shoot for some teen grunge magazine. A white tank top clung to her figure and dipped just below the top of her plain black bra.

"You're dead," I argued, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Rachel smiled and let out a chiming laugh. There was some ethereal quality to it- like chimes clattering on a windless day. It didn't quite _fit_.

"You're not looking too great yourself," she pointed out. She reached up and brushed a lock of dirty blonde hair behind her right ear and I noticed the bright blue feather hanging there. Her head turned back towards Mark. "He really is- _was_ something else. Wasn't he?"

"On that, we can agree," I replied, stumbling a bit and barely managing to catch myself on the corner of Mark's desk. Rachel turned her eyes back on me. They were a stunning hazel- very much like Lex's.

"I'm surprised it was you. I would have thought it was the other one," Rachel mumbled, tilting her head as she scrutinized me. I felt like I was being diagnosed by her gaze. "Then again, I'm glad it was you."

 _Glad what was me?_ I wondered. Rachel always seemed like such an image to live up to that I never would have guessed that I would have to look down to make eye contact with her.

"You know, only one can live right?" Rachel prodded. "Then again, I would be surprised if even one could live given the state you and Max have left the timeline in."

"Only one?" I asked, recalling the memory of Lex slipping off of the cliff's edge and Chloe being gunned down in a restroom.

"The storm is coming, Rio, and it's going to wipe Arcadia Bay off the map if it has to," Rachel Amber warned me. "It's always nice to be the hero- to be _liked-_ but heroes don't save everyone. They have to make sacrifices along the way. They need to see the bigger picture."

_"I knew from your photos that you were something special- that you would see."_

"Who is the hero of this story?" Rachel inquired, no longer looking at me. Her hazel eyes grew distant as if she could see something I could not. A chilled breeze drifted into the room, ruffling up my clothing. The breeze caught itself up in Rachel's hair. I watched in stunned silence as the wind ripped through her and Rachel Amber turned to dust in front of me. The kaleidoscope of dust drifted with the breeze out of the Dark Room.

Rachel Amber was finally free of the Dark Room.

Then the world caved in around me.

* * *

Everything hit me all at once- a full frontal assault on my senses. Rain was splattering against my cheeks like icicles and wind was tearing at my clothes. I was standing at the cliff once again. My rib was no longer broken, thankfully. Max was beside me- her eyes glistening with fresh tears. Chloe was shouting about the storm- staring at it in paralyzed fear.

I couldn't blame her for not being able to look away. It was colossal.

I felt my phone like a lump in my pocket. I reached in and felt not only my phone, but something like a photograph. I drew it out first. It was my picture of Max photographing the butterfly in the bathroom. I didn't recall printing it, but obviously I had done so at some point during the week. She looked so bright and determined in the photograph- my avenging angel on a mission. I slipped it back into my pocket and grasped my phone. Pulling it out, I noticed a series of missed calls and voicemails- all from Lex and one from an unknown number. Fear seized my heart as I brought up my voicemail.

"Please dial in your PIN."

 _Easy. Our birthday,_ I thought as I deftly typed in the digits.

"You have _four_ new messages and _one_ saved message. If you would like-"

I hit the one without hesitating. The machine read out the time and I barely caught it. It was last night.

 _"Hey Rio Rio Chiu! I was just wondering if you were going to actually join the general populace for at least an hour?"_ Lex asked- the sound of a party blaring in the background. _"Mr. Jefferson has been asking about you. I think you won the contest! He won't tell me, but it's the only reason I can think of that he would be looking for you. Hurry up and get here! He'll be announcing you soon. You don't want me to have to go up there in your place. I will say something nice!"_

Another message- ten minutes later.

 _"Rio, you won! I totally killed it up there in your place, of course. I wish you would show up. I know crowds make you uncomfortable. Please call me back. We've got to plan out your outfit for the trip to San Francisco!"_ Lex informed me- the party still raging behind her. Before she hung up, I swore I could hear a deep, masculine voice saying her name in the background.

The next message was incomprehensible- a pocket dial. There was a lot of shuffling at first.

"Where am I?" My blood ran cold at the sound of Lex's voice. It sounded lazy and muddled- a very unLex-like sound.

"We're just heading to my studio. I'm sure your sister will meet us there," a man informed her. I nearly cried. Bile rose up my throat in one burning rush. Jefferson had Lex. He took her in my place.

"Leave Rio alone," Lex ordered- her fiery determination still burning despite the drugs hampering her system. The call cut off with the sound of squealing tires and Lex crying out.

I gritted my teeth to hold back the slew of swear words and bile in my mouth. The fourth missed call began playing.

"Rio, Rio, Rio. I expected me from you. I thought you were an "Everyday Hero". Maybe I was wrong about you. Your sister on the other hand- she's a real work of art. True, she doesn't have your natural _dark allure_ but, with some work, I think she and I have made some great progress."

_Jefferson_ _._

My phone fell to the ground.

The strips of cinematic film burst into life around me and I saw flashes of Lex. Lex being dragged into a shallow grave as if she were fertilizer. Lex strewn across the couch with her hands and feet bound in duct tape. Everywhere I looked I saw flashed of Lex in some form of agony or death. I reached out and laced the strips around my hand, tugging time to a stand still. Each strip of film pulled taut as they tried to continue streaming onward.

For a brief moment, time seemed to slow until it stalled. I felt the invisible strings straining in my hand, but I held on with all of my might.

"Rio, what are you doing?" Max asked incredulously. I looked out at the storm. I could see it for what it really was now. It was an eraser. "Why did you freeze time?"

"That storm is going to destroy all of Arcadia Bay if we don't stop it, Max," I informed her, feeling the empty, numb feeling spreading through my limbs. "Can't you see that this storm is _our_ fault?"

I took in a deep breath and then admitted, "I've had my powers for six months, Max. I didn't remember what happened- how I got them- until everything started going to complete and utter shit."

"Lex and I were goofing off, celebrating the end of another school year with one of our usual hikes. She wanted me to take her picture and I was too focused on the shot that I didn't notice how close she had gotten to the edge," I started out, trying to keep from choking up. "She slipped, Max, and I was too slow to save her. Then- all of a sudden- there was a bright flash of light. I don't recall much after that, and my powers definitely didn't manifest as quickly as yours. It started out as just voices from photographs and very _vivid_ flashbacks. Then my seizures started and they put me on medication that was supposed to dampen 'eccentric brain activity'."

"The timeline wasn't too altered by Lex's death being evaded. I don't know why- it just wasn't- but ever since you- _we_ saved Chloe, it has been getting worse. It's Chaos Theory in a nutshell, Max."

"So you're saying that _Chloe_ really is the reason this storm is here. It's because I saved Chloe," Max reasoned, looking over at Chloe.

"The only way to fix things is to go back in time and let Nathan Prescott kill Chloe Price," I confirmed, negating to mention the idea of going back to April 22nd and letting Lex die.

"No," Max denied.

I stared at Max in disbelief.

"You can't be serious," I growled, clenching my hands into fists as I fought to hold the storm and the procession of time at bay. Even I couldn't believe that I had become so strong in the span of a week.

 _It has been one hell of a week_ , I relented.

"I can't _kill_ Chloe," Max insisted, staring over at where the blue haired girl stood. Chloe Price was frozen in time like a perfect snapshot- her blue hair pushed back by the wind to reveal her soft, yet cold face. Her eyes were wide as saucers and as blue as her hair. Terror was very much alive in Chloe's eyes. "She's my best friend."

"She was _supposed_ to die, Max," I argued, very nearly ripping out my own hair in frustration if it were not for the tight hold I needed to keep in order to ensure that time not move forward. "All you're doing is setting things back the way they were meant to be."

"You're asking me to kill her," Max repeated, sounding equally as frustrated as I did. Tears were beginning to slip from her eyes and down her cheeks to mingle with the rain there.

"I'm asking you to do what's right," I corrected the smaller girl. "Think of all those people in Arcadia Bay. The storm is going to decimate the town, Max. Kate, Warren, Daniel, my _sister_ \- they could all die."

"I promised Chloe-"

" _You promised me that you would stop fucking over the timeline for your precious Chloe_ ," I spat, not even bothering to contain my anger. "And yet, here we are. All you care about is Chloe, Max. Every one else is just extra, right? Even Kate? Even _me_?"

"Rio..," Max trailed off in a broken whisper.

"How long were you in Arcadia Bay without so much as sending her a text message, huh Max?" I accused her, feeling my blood begin to heat and simmer into a boil. "You don't care about Chloe. You just feel guilty because you were a _shitty_ excuse for a friend."

"Stop it, Rio!" Max ordered, her hands balling into small fists and her mouth turning down in a grimace. "You don't even care about Chloe _or_ me. You just want to save your fucking sister."

"Don't you dare bring her into this you pint sized bitch," I snapped.

"You said so yourself, Rio. Your powers manifested when you saved Lex's life, right? So doesn't that mean that Lex is supposed to be dead too?" Max countered. I felt my entire reality come to a halt. Max was right. I knew she was and yet I couldn't handle the meaning behind her words. Lex couldn't die. "I can't let Chloe die."

"I won't let Lex die," I swore. I felt a solemn resolve come over me. "Alright, Max. Let's play a game. You versus me."

I released my hold on time and shoved my hands into my pocket. I pulled out the picture and heard the sounds of Max muffling me and then Chloe barging into the bathroom. Max couldn't move fast enough to stop me.

"Catch me if you can, Maxine."

* * *

The world came to life around me. I heard the click of Max's camera and looked down at her. Without thinking about it, I located the hammer and dipped down to grasp it. I held the hammer behind my back. I could _not_ let Max save Chloe. Max saving Chloe meant Lex being locked away in that damned Dark Room with Jefferson as Arcadia Bay became nothing more than a tragic footnote in Northwestern American history.

Max didn't look at me the way she had the first time and I realized a moment too late why. The bathroom door burst open and Nathan began his asinine monologue.

"It's cool Nathan... Don't stress... You're okay, bro... Just count to three...," Nathan assured himself. I wondered how I had missed the signs in the beginning. Nathan was just a kid- a _sick_ kid, but still only a kid. Mark Jefferson had seen how vulnerable Nathan was and used him to achieve his twisted vision. "Don't be scared... You own this school... If I wanted, I could blow it up... You're the Boss."

The door opened and closed again. It was Chloe's entrance. For a moment, I almost felt my resolve waver.

 _Can I really just hide back here and listen to him kill Chloe?_ I wondered. I didn't particular like blue-haired nuisance; but that didn't constitute her death. Did it? _It's her or Lex._

"So what do you want?" Nathan asked and this time I knew Chloe's voice. She start slamming stall doors open with a force that could have ripped them from their cheap hinges.

"I hope you 'checked the perimeter' as my step-ass would say. Now, let's talk bidness-"

 _What is Max doing?_ I wondered as I noticed Max stooped on the floor. She was searching for the hammer. _Max came back through her own photograph._

"I got nothing for you," Nathan replied coolly.

"Wrong. You got hella cash," Chloe snapped back at him.

"That's my family, not me," Nathan disagreed. Max looked up and her eyes met mine. She followed the line of my arm- the one concealing the hammer behind my back. I watched as her mind connected the dots.

"Oh boo hoo, poor little rich kid. I know you been pumpin' drugs n' shit to kids around here... I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them," the girl threatened. "Man I can see the headlines now-"

Max lunged for me, trying to reach behind me to get the hammer. I quickly realized how much smaller Max was than me. She didn't stand a chance against me- not really. I had a few inches on her in height and far more muscle on my bones. I knocked her off of me and Max took a moment to recuperate before coming at me a second time. Clumsily, Max knocked into the janitorial supplies and sent them careening away from us.

"Fuck!" I cursed, reaching out for them as Max rewound time. The cart returned to its original place and she resumed struggling to get the hammer from my grasp. I briefly contemplated the benefits of knocking her out with the hammer.

"Leave them out of this, bitch,"Nathan ordered. Max caught her ankle around mine and yanked, sending me sprawling. I hit the floor with a loud crash and had to bite back a series of foul words that threatened to spill out of my mouth. "What was that?"

"Shit," Max griped, rewinding time.

"Leave them out of this, bitch," Nathan repeated. For a moment, I almost enjoyed the sound of him having to repeat himself like a foul-mouthed parrot. Then I remembered that I was trying to fight Max for my sister's right to live.

"I can tell everybody Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself-" Chloe snarled. I stood back up with the hammer in hand just as the two voices started growing frantic. Max saw the hammer in my grip and grimaced.

"You don't know who the fuck I am or who you're messing around with," Nathan growled.

"Where'd you get that? What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!" Chloe demanded in a panic.

"Don't EVER tell me what to do! I'm so SICK of people trying to control me!" Nathan growled. I grasped Max by her throat this time when she made a run at me and my hand squeezed. She made a choking sound and I felt the air come to a forced stop.

"You are going to get into hella more trouble for this than drugs-" the girl reasoned. Max's eyes betrayed how hopeless she felt. I wanted to stop- I wanted to _help_ her- but I could still hear Lex's cry in my ears. As much as my stomach turned to see Max clawing at her throat and my hand so helplessly, I couldn't let her go.

"Nobody would ever even miss your punk ass, would they?" the guy taunted.

"Get that gun away from me psycho!" A gun shot rang out and I saw Max cringe.

 _Just a little bit longer,_ I mentally implored her. Chloe was dying just seven feet from us and it needed to stay that way. Max coughed and sputtered, but managed to knock a bottle of cleanser against my head when I looked towards the direction of the gun shot. I cried out and released Max and the hammer. Max rose her hand and time began to go in reverse. When it resumed, I grasped the hammer.

"Where'd you get that? What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!" Chloe demanded. Max yanked the hammer from my grasp and turned towards the alarm. She swung it without hesitation and the glass shattered. Her small hand thrust forward and slammed down on the fire alarm as my hands reached up to shield my ears. The alarm began blaring urgently and I heard a body hit the floor as the bathroom door opened. Nathan scrambled out of the bathroom.

"Dammit, Max," I cursed, sitting flat on my ass. I looked down and saw my camera resting on the floor and an idea struck me.

"I won't let you hurt Chloe," Max argued. "You don't have the right to decide what's right and wrong."

"You're right, Max, and neither do you," I snapped, grasping the camera and scrolling to the most recent photo I could find- Lex and I on the bus to Arcadia Bay. "This time, I'm going somewhere you can't follow."

I felt the connection with the photo. It wasn't nearly as stable as the line that I felt through printed photographs, but it was enough. I let the photograph take me in- my consciousness slipping from one time to the next.

* * *

There was nothing quite like going back into the past _through_ the past when it comes to things that create migraines from hell. I shot up in my seat and looked around. Lex was lowering her cliche peace hand sign- a look of worry in her hazel eyes. I could have cried just seeing her.

"Are you feeling alright?" Lex asked. She was always the first person to notice when I was ill- emotionally or physically. I wrapped my arms around her and nearly squeezed the life out of her.

"I'm fine. Just... I want you to make a deal with me- a sister _swear_ ," I implored, pulling back to clasp her hands in my own. Lex laughed a bit at my behavior. One of her hands pulled free and tucked a stray strand of black hair behind my ear.

"Anything you want, Rio," Lex offered- completely open to me like a book that I had read thousands of times.

"This Thursday. Can we maybe just stay in and watch the premier of Supernatural? I know there's probably going to be a lot of cool stuff going on that you're going to be _crazy_ involved in; but I want to make sure that we get to hang out- just the two of us," I begged. I could still hear her voicemail in the back of my mind. "Whatever is going on, _promise_ me that you'll meet me in my room."

"I would never miss an episode," Lex assured me- a bright smile pulling at her lips.

I knew that I was going to be with Max and Chloe Thursday night. As much as I wanted to fight it, it was going to happen. It _needed_ to happen. Lex would go to my room though and, when she got there, she would realize something was wrong. By then, she would be far away from Mark Jefferson. At least to that end, she was safe.

 _Now I just have a storm to stop,_ I resolved.

"Hey Rio?" Lex prodded, distracting me from my thoughts.

"What's up?" I asked. Her mouth was pursed in concentration.

"Is there something up I should know about? You haven't acted this weird since back in April- before your seizure," Lex remarked, reaching forward pressing the back of her hand against my forehead as if she were checking me for a fever. I leaned into the familiar touch- trying to block out the memory of Mark's hand in a similar position.

"I don't really remember much about that day," I admitted, resting back against my seat as she retracted her hand.

"It was weird. One minute I was slipping and then you caught me out of nowhere. Right after that, you started seizing. It was insane," Lex informed me, leaning back into her own seat. "You're a life saver, Rio."

The world burned up around me and I reached out to Lex. The last thing I saw was her pulling out a portrait and handing it to me.

* * *

My eyes opened and I was back on the cliff with Chloe and Max. Max practically seething. I reached out numbly and strung my fingers through the threads of time and held it until everything around us came to a stop.

"You know I'm right, Max," I argued. "You have to see that."

"I do see it, Rio," Max admitted, pain in her voice. "But I can't just let him kill her."

"If she doesn't die, everyone in Arcadia Bay will," I reminded Max, sick of having the same argument.

"I _can't_ ," Max insisted.

"If we don't stop this storm, Lex is as good as dead," I tried to convince her. It felt as if the entire weight of the world was resting upon my shoulders. The strips of film slipped out of my hands and I was powerless to stop them. Time resumed- the rain slicing at me like tiny knives.

"What's going on?" Chloe asked, coming to life in front of us.

"We- I caused this, Chloe- all of it," Max admitted in a pained voice. "I changed things too much and I actually _altered_ the course of- of everything!"

"Fuck that," Chloe argued- a rage burning with in her. "You were given a power, Max. You didn't ask for it and you did your best- You saved me!"

"At what cost?" I hissed over the roar of the storm.

"It had to happen!" Chloe insisted. "All of this did! Except for what happened to Rachel but, without Max's power, we never would have known what really happened to her."

"Rachel wouldn't want this," I snapped, feeling a strange kinship with the dead girl.

"You don't even know Rachel," Chloe battled, her eyes flashing a warning sign at me. I didn't care. I was sick of losing everything over this one girl. I would give up anything to save my sister. Even my own life.

_My own life._

_"I'm surprised it was you. I would have thought it was the other one."_

_"Lex!" I screamed as I dropped my camera and dove over the cliff's edge. I was sent tumbling into open air, but I managed to grasp Lex's hand in my own. My other hand reached out and I caught onto a branch. Using all of my strength, I hauled her up. She managed to grasp the branch, but I felt it begin to crack under the strain. We couldn't both live._

_"I love you," I assured her, letting go without so much as a warning. I tumbled into open air and saw blue butterfly fluttering above me before I was enveloped in a warm light._

"Lex didn't die," I whispered, clutching my stomach. It all made sense- why I kept dying and over and over again. _I_ shouldn't be alive. I stuffed my hands in the pockets of the black trench coat I was wearing and I felt my fingers brush something smooth.

_"It's always nice to be the hero- to be liked- but heroes don't save everyone. They have to make sacrifices along the way. They need to see the bigger picture."_

"So what if Max isn't the goddamn time master? She's _Maxine Caulfield_ and she's amazing!" Chloe defended Max. I saw the light shade of pink that dusted Max's cheeks. Chloe reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a photograph of a blue butterfly resting on a bucket. "Max, this is the only way. _You_ have to go back."

I pulled out the two piece of paper in my pocket. It was two photographs- one of Max photographing the butterfly in Chloe's photo and another of Lex smiling broadly at me with sun filtering down at her and a waterfall behind her.

"No. No she doesn't," I decided, shoving one of the photographs back into my coat for safe keeping. Max saw me wielding the other but didn't comprehend the weight of it. "I'm sorry, Max. I really am."

I heard the feminine voice drift up from the photograph and closed my eyes. White light swallowed me up as I slipped back in time. I vaguely heard Max cry out my name.

_It's the only way._


	17. Famous Last Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rio sacrifices herself.

I smelled the fresh pine on the breeze as my eyes fluttered open. Lex's scream pulled me from my thoughts and I lurched forward, abandoning my camera as I went. My body moved faster than I even knew it could. I sent myself careening over the side of the cliff. I stretched out and caught Lex's outstretched hand in my own. My other hand reached out and snagged onto a tree root that was jutting out of the cliff wall. I knew it was only a temporary haven from the fall below. My eyes dipped down and I saw the jagged rocks that awaited me in the stream below. Lex's hand was softer than I ever remembered it being.

"Rio, I'm scared!" Lex cried out as tears glistened in her hazel eyes. I felt the root begin to bend beneath my weight. The cinematic strips materialized around me again and curved around every inch of my body. It was time. I willed them to stop and- to my amazement- they did. Time slowed to a crawl before stalling. Even Lex was frozen, staring up at me with fear in her wide eyes.

I took a moment just to look at her- to memorize every detail of her face. There was the three freckles that ornamented her face just beside her right eye and the slight point of her chin. Her eyes were still a rare gold with amber within it and flecks of meadow green. Her black hair was lighter from the amount of time she spent in the sun compared to me. It was almost more of a dark chocolate than my charcoal colored locks. Our eyes were the same big, almond shape and we shared an identical Nordic nose- although hers was slightly bent in the middle from a nasty fall when we were seven.

A single tear slipped from the corner of my right and followed the curve of my face. I watched it fall and splatter against Lex's face. It followed a similar trail on her face.

I couldn't believe how sunny it was. It was almost as if all of the clouds had dispersed from this side of the country. Golden light spilled onto my sister and, for a moment, I felt as if that glow was on me. The darkness that clung to me was dissipating.

"I'm scared, Lex," I admitted, knowing that I couldn't hold on forever. More tears filled my eyes and began sliding down my cheeks. It was so quiet. The kind of quiet that made your thoughts seem like shouting. "I don't want to die- I really don't. I just met this amazing girl named Max. Sure, she fucks up but...but I guess we all do that."

"I know I'm leaving you alone," I acknowledged, despite knowing that my sister couldn't hear me. If I unfroze time, the root would snap before I could tell her anyway. "We've been together literally since birth- since _conception_. I couldn't live in a world without you, but I know you'll be alright. You're going to make it into Blackwell Academy because you have trained eye for capturing beauty and you are going to meet this clumsy girl named Max and a weird science geek named Warren. You'll meet this _insanely_ talented sketch artist named Daniel and you will probably spend most of your time peering over his shoulder while he draws. It's all going to be okay. You always told me I was the strong one but, to be honest, I've been scared shitless this entire time. Now I'm trying to make some brave gesture like a true hero but I'm not a hero. I'm a _kid_."

My voice broke and I choked up a bit.

"I wish I could be there for you," I whispered. I let out a breath and the strips of film began moving again. Dozens of them- shots of Max and me meeting, pictures of Lex and me eating at Two Whales, and photographs of Daniel sketching me- began to burn up. My eyes caught onto one- Max and I holding hands at a funeral. Her head was nestled into the crook of my neck and blue butterfly was resting on the coffin.

"Rio!" Lex cried out. I smiled softly down at her and then used all of my strength to pull her up to the tree root. I looked up and spotted a few handholds that she could use if she moved quickly enough.

"Look at me," I ordered as she grasped the tree root. Lex's eyes met mine just as it started to crack under the strain. I brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I love you."

"I love you too," Lex whispered in a bewildered tone. In that moment, I knew my time had come. The streams of film around me faded until it was just open air and I let go of the root. Lex screamed my name and tried to grab me but I was falling to quickly. I tumbled freely through open air and caught sight of a gorgeous blue butterfly fluttering above me. The wind ripped through me as I fell- my hair flying skyward. I closed my eyes against the sunlight, wanting to use my imagination to conjure one last image.

A tall man with two tone glasses and a goatee appeared. He was dressed in a slightly rumpled white oxford shirt and dark wash jeans. He reached down to me and caressed my cheek. I bathed in the warmth of his dark brown eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

"Don't worry, Rio. This won't hurt a bit."

* * *

Maxine Caulfield walked down the hall towards the front lobby of Blackwell Academy. She felt strangely disoriented- as if there was something she was supposed to remember. Shrugging, Max looked over to see Warren talking to a new girl. She was extremely pretty in a more mature kind of way- long black hair that was almost brown in the fluorescent lighting. The new girl was wearing a pressed white skirt that stopped just a couple of inches above the knee and loose black shirt that seemed really faded. It had the words 'I Am Not Afraid To Walk This World Alone' printed on it. Max assumed it was a song. The girl caught sight of Max over Warren's shoulder. Her hazel eyes were stunningly bright and colorful against the pale palette of her face.

The girl's pink lips moved- forming words that Max couldn't hear over the sound of her music. She pulled out the earbuds and tried to quell her anxiety.

 _Come on, Max. Don't make an idiot out of yourself_ , she berated herself.

"E-excuse me?" Max asked, wringing the straps of her bag nervously as she noticed the girl making hand signs towards the camera she was holding. "You want to take a picture? Of me?"

"Definitely," the girl answered with a nod. There was a strange gleam in her eyes.

"Um, sure," Max assented, following the girl out of the front doors and into the quad. The strange girl moved so gracefully that Max felt like a bumbling idiot behind her. Max finally reached the new girl's side and remarked, "That's some pretty sweet tech."

The girl glanced down at the slightly bulky camera in her hands.

"Thanks, it's a Nikon D3200," she informed Max, smiling softly down at the camera.

"So, what's your name?" Max prodded.

"I'm Lex- short for Alexandria," she informed Max with a smile- this one directed at her. The sun almost seemed to shine a bit more on Lex as if she were an otherworldly being. "Sorry if I'm freaking you out. I just saw you and felt this strange _connection_ , you know? I don't usually photograph people. My sister-"

Lex paused for a second and Max thought she spotted a tear forming in the other girl's eyes. She quickly scrubbed away the offending tear, however, and Max was left wondering what happened to Lex's sister.

"Her name was Rio- like the movie about the bird? She and I were twins. She loved taking pictures of people. She didn't particularly care for _talking_ to the though. This was her favorite shirt," Lex informed Max, pulling at the hem of the black shirt she was wearing. "I wanted to have a piece of her with me today. I've never done anything without her, you know?"

"Wow. I'm sorry, Lex," Max replied dumbly. Lex just flashed her another smile. Honestly, Max could identify with Rio fairly well. "What happened to her?"

"She died last April," Lex answered in a flat tone. "I was stupid and I got too close to the edge of a cliff. I wanted her to take a picture of me. I slipped and Rio jumped over the cliff for me. Can you believe that? She saved me but..."

"She didn't make it," Lex finished. She eyed the nearby fountain. "Oh! Let's do it over there! You can sit on the fountain. I think the sunlight reflecting off of the water will create a great effect."

Max almost whirled at the sudden change of tone, but she followed Lex over to the fountain anyway. Sitting on it, Max felt a bit self conscious on the other side of the camera. Lex lined up the shot.

"Relax, um-"

"Max," Max provided her name.

"Relax Maximillion. You look great," Lex promised. The camera flashed and filled Max's eyes with a blinding white light.

* * *

Max made her way up the worn dirt path until she reached the top. The lighthouse loomed up in front of her. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket- probably Chloe wanting to make plans. Max ignored it for the moment. She walked up to the old wooden bench and sat down. Looking out at the bay, Max almost couldn't believe how serene it looked.

The week was crazy, from what she understood. Time had just caught up with her consciousness a few hours ago. Jefferson was taken away in handcuffs after David Madsen led the cops to his bunker. Nathan Prescott was carted off to a far away mental health institution to try to get him set on a better path and to undo the damage Jefferson had done to his psyche.

The hardest think for Max was probably when she finally recovered all of her memories. Remembering Rio was like getting sucker punched in the stomach. She remembered everything all at once. She felt a strange, heart-wrenching guilt at Rio's fate. She didn't act fast enough.

 _She died so that I didn't have to kill Chloe,_ Max acknowledged.

Staring out at the bay, Max felt a serene calm wash over her as if Rio were sitting on the bench next to her. She could almost hear Rio's voice- that lilting tone that was a couple pitches below Lex's- telling her that she would do anything for her. Every part of Max wished that she could save Rio. Max learned very quickly that she couldn't travel through photographs that she hadn't been present for.

"I wish you had stayed," Max whispered. Tears built up in her eyes and she let them fall. Pulling out her phone, Max scrolled to the song Lex had showed her.

Taking in a deep breath, Max put in her headphones and pressed play.

_Now I know_   
_That I can't make you stay_   
_But where's your heart?_   
_But where's your heart?_   
_But where's your..._

_And I know_   
_There's nothing I can say_   
_To change that part_   
_To change that part_   
_To change..._

_So many_   
_Bright lights, they cast a shadow_   
_But can I speak?_   
_Well is it hard understanding_   
_I'm incomplete_   
_A life that's so demanding_   
_I get so weak_   
_A love that's so demanding_   
_I can't speak_

_I am not afraid to keep on living_   
_I am not afraid to walk this world alone_   
_Honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven_   
_Nothing you can say can stop me going home_

_Can you see_   
_My eyes are shining bright_   
_'Cause I'm out here_   
_On the other side_   
_Of a jet black hotel mirror_   
_And I'm so weak_   
_Is it hard understanding_   
_I'm incomplete_   
_A love that's so demanding_   
_I get weak_

_I am not afraid to keep on living_   
_I am not afraid to walk this world alone_   
_Honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven_   
_Nothing you can say can stop me going home_

_I am not afraid to keep on living_   
_I am not afraid to walk this world alone_   
_Honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven_   
_Nothing you can say can stop me going home_

_These bright lights have always blinded me_   
_These bright lights have always blinded me_   
_I say_

_I see you lying next to me_   
_With words I thought I'd never speak_   
_Awake and unafraid_   
_Asleep or dead_

_(How can I see, I see you lying) 'Cause I see you lying next to me_   
_(How can I see, I see you lying) With words I thought I'd never speak_   
_(How can I see, I see you lying) Awake and unafraid_   
_(How can I see, I see you lying) Asleep or dead_

_'Cause I see you lying next to me_   
_With words I thought I'd never speak_   
_Awake and unafraid_   
_Asleep or dead_

_'Cause I see you lying next to me_   
_With words I thought I'd never speak_   
_Awake and unafraid_   
_Asleep or dead_

_I am not afraid to keep on living_   
_I am not afraid to walk this world alone_   
_(Or dead)_   
_Honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven_   
_Nothing you can say can stop me going home_   
_(Or dead)_   
_I am not afraid to keep on living_   
_I am not afraid to walk this world alone_   
_(Or dead)_   
_Honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven_   
_Nothing you can say can stop me going home_   
_(Or dead)_   
_I am not afraid to keep on living_   
_I am not afraid to walk this world alone_   
_(Or dead)_   
_Honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven_   
_Nothing you can say can stop me going home_

* * *

**Whelp. That's it you guys. The end and all that. The song was "Famous Last Words" by My Chemical Romance.**


	18. Sequel Preview: Unfinished Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing has been the same in Arcadia Bay since the week that no one remembers- no one except for Max. It was always assumed that Rio's sacrifice was the right choice- that the Bay was safe. Max finds out all too soon that her power is nothing special and that sometimes your unfinished business comes back to haunt you.

**Chapter One: Time Changes Hands**

**Mark**

Mark Jefferson shifted grudgingly on his rough cot, missing the soft cushions of his couch back home. The fact that that joke of a security guard was the one to discover him just served to add insult to injury. Red bled into his vision whenever he thought about the prick. It dissipated, however, when his mind strayed to his dream subject.

Closing his eyes, Mark wondered if the unfamiliar girl would visit his dreams again tonight. Solitary confinement was so much more bearable when he knew she would be there for him in his dreams.

"Rio," Mark breathed her name, feeling his muscles loosen as he fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

_"Mark," Rio greeted him, moving forward and wrapping her arms around him. She was picturesque in every meaning of the word. Her long, ebony hair was pulled back into a thick braid and she was wearing a white, shift dress with lace sleeves. Her silver eyes looked at him and he felt as if she could understand him in a way that no one could. "I've missed you."_

_"I wish you were real. If I had you, I never would have gotten myself into this mess," Mark reasoned, brushing some stray hairs away from her pale face and behind her ears. He would kill for a camera right now._

_Rio didn't reply, she just started giggling, burying her face into his chest. He was wearing his usually white oxford and jeans- his teaching attire from before he got arrested._

_"You kill me, Mark," Rio replied breezily. "Come, let's go for a walk."_

_The scenery around him began to come into focus. He was standing in front of Blackwell Academy. Faceless students milled around the schoolyard. Rio pulled away and began leading him towards the road by hand. He marveled at how soft Rio's hands were in his own. There were small callouses on her fingertips; but her palms were smooth._

_Rio's eyes flickered among the vehicles that whirred past in the street. Loose strands of her hair were whipping around in a frenzy. Mark felt his gut sink lower as he realized the dream was coming to an end._

_"Save me, Mark," Rio whispered, stepping out in front of a bus. Mark cried out in agony, her hand slipping loose from his grip as of she were as tangible as the wind. He fell to his knees as the sound of students screaming and the bus's brakes squealing filled his ears. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks and he smelled Rio's blood on the air._

* * *

Mark jolted up- a cold layer of sweat covering his skin. The dream felt so _real_. Mark ran to the door of his cell and began banging against the door furiously in a sudden fit of desperation. Finally, someone came to inquire about the ruckus.

"Step back from the door, creep," the woman ordered. The door opened up and Mark recognized McKellan- one of the night guards of the prison. "What's all the fuss?"

"I need out of here! Rio needs me!" Mark argued, coming off like a raving lunatic and not caring. Rio was real- she had to be- and she _needed_ him.

"Back off," McKellan ordered, reaching for her sidearm. Mark charged forward anyway and the guard lifted her gun, firing it. A blinding white light filled his vision and Mark blinked away the white spots. McKellan was still standing- strangely still. Her gun was pointed at his chest and Mark saw a small projectile between the barrel and him.

 _The bullet,_ he realized, stepping aside. He felt strange, string-like entities pulling at his fingers and wondered if it was possible that he stopped time. He'd seen Rio do it in his dreams, of course. She could make birds stop mid air and photograph them as if it were nothing; but that wasn't reality. _But this is._

Something about using the gift felt like slipping back into his skin. It was very similar to photography- creating frozen moments of time.

Mark grabbed the gun with one hand, using the other to hold the strings. If he could do this again, he could very well break out of the prison. A smile broke out across his face and he pistol whipped McKellan as time resumed. The hit was hard enough that it sent the blonde officer tumbling to the floor unconscious. He added a kick to the stomach just as a treat for himself.

_I wonder what else I can do._

* * *

_Rain fell down upon Max and she recoiled in horror from the lighthouse as its top half began to fall towards her._

"No!" Max cried out in shock. Looking around, she realized that she was just in class. Mr. Jefferson's replacement should be walking in the door any minute to start one of the lectures that the school board had created to replace Jefferson's curriculum. Max let out a breath and began organizing her notes on her desk- only stopping when she heard a familiar voice at the front of the room.

"It's such a brilliant change to see you all in your desks and not squawking gossip amongst yourselves," the male voice praised. Max mentally whispered a prayer and looked up. With dark eyes behind a pair of two tone glasses and his renowned goatee, there was no doubting who the man at the front of the room was.

"Mr. Jefferson," Max breathed his name in surprise. She glanced around at her classmates, expecting similar reactions from the lot. No one seemed affected in the slightest by the return of their professor.

"Yes, Max?" Mark prompted, staring at her expectantly. She felt the color drain from her face and faked an excuse about not feeling well. "Very well. You do look as if you might start vomiting and I don't think the color would look well on these floors."

"Thank you," Max muttered, gathering her things and bustling out of the room. She hurried down the hall and into the bathroom, sealing herself away in one of the stalls. Max dialed Chloe's number, certain that the blue haired punk would be able to help her figure out what was going on.

"Yo, Maximillion. Aren't you supposed to be in class or sumthin'?" Chloe asked over the sound of her truck's engine.

"Um, yea, I am. Look, Chloe, you remember what happened last month, right?" Max replied, chewing on her lip.

"Uh, yea! You saved me from that mental patient Prescott, remember? He got taken down for kidnapping Kate and all sorts of bad shit. Like killing- well, you know," Chloe answered, sounding a little put off by Max's question. "Why is this coming up anyway?"

"Mark Jefferson just came into my photography class and-"

"Since when do you call him Mark?" Chloe interrupted. "And why do you sound surprised? He's been teaching your class basically all semester."

Max felt her chest tightening in a panic-fueled vice. It grew harder for Max to breathe as her vision blurred around the edges. None of this was right. Everything was _fucked up_.

"Max? Hello? Are you alright, short stop?" Chloe asked, her own voice growing uneasy. Max collapsed to her knees.

* * *

_It was raining- a sensation Max was getting sick of very quickly. She forced her way through the sheets of grey rain. The path beneath her feet was muddy- the slick substance slipping with each step she took. She slipped, falling onto the ground and scraping her knees against some sticks. Lifting herself back onto her feet, Max noticed someone further up the path._

_"Wait! Hold on!" Max called out. She stumbled forward, feeling as if the path were growing longer with every step. The silhouette overhead paused and then reached out towards Max, beckoning her closer. Max rushed up the path but was too slow as the figure disappeared._

_Breaking out at the top of the cliff, Max felt her chest heave with each breath. Her eyes searched frantically until they landed on the back of a woman's head. She was sitting on the old bench, staring out at the skyline and not acknowledging Max's approach. Max thought she recognized her from somewhere._

_"Lex?" Max asked, coming around the side of the bench. It certainly looked like Lex- although there was something off about her nose and her chin wasn't quite as thin. The woman's long, black hair fell like a waterfall of inky behind her and her eyes weren't golden as Lex's were. "Rio?"_

_"Hi Max," Rio greeted, turning and smiling at the brunette. Tears were running down her cheeks in a seemingly never-ending flow. Her expression seemed to be a mix of sorrow and relief. "I've made a real mess out of things, haven't I Max?"_

_"What do you mean?" Max asked, coming down to sit on the bench beside her lost friend. She couldn't believe Rio was actually here right now. It had been a month since Rio gave her life for Arcadia Bay- and for Chloe._

_"Winter is coming, Max. I don't think I can stop it- not this time," Rio informed her, ringing her hands nervously. "I didn't mean to give it to him, Max. You have to believe me. If I could come back on my own, I would. I would give anything to be there with you right now."_

_"Is this about Jefferson?" Max inquired, realizing what Rio was saying bit by bit._

_"The power had to go somewhere, Max. Your power got him in prison- mine got him back out," Rio admitted, looking back out at the skyline. Max followed her gaze. Gigantic, towering clouds of grey were looming on the horizon and the bay was beginning to freeze._

_"You have to find me, Max. Take Le-" Rio was cut off as blood blossomed from her forehead and began running down her face in streams of red. Her skin drained of all color and then began to tinge grey. Rio's eyes grew cloudy and unfocused. Her mouth hung open and the tears stopped falling from her eyes. Max realized in horror that Rio was dead all over again._

* * *

Max jolted up, realizing that she was on a bathroom floor. Chloe was bent at the knee in front of her, running her hands over Max's face. Max felt sweaty and cold.

"You had me worried, you son of a bitch," Chloe chastised her, pulling Max against her. Max clutched desperately at the back of Chloe's shirt. Chloe was warm and comforting but Max couldn't shake the vision of Rio in her mind. It had been so long since she'd last seen those deep, silver eyes. She remembered the feel of the storm- rain splattering against her cheeks so thick she almost choked on it. She thought Rio was leaving to kill Chloe, but she wasn't.

Max sometimes wondered if, given the choice, she would have let Rio die in Chloe's place.

"Are you alright, Max?" David Madsen asked, kneeling next to her. His eyes were full of concern. Max felt guilty. She'd worried everyone.

"I'm fine," Max lied, pulling away from Chloe. She wiped her face clean with the soft palms of her hands. Her mind briefly returned to the feeling of Rio's calloused fingertips scraping across her cheek. A lump formed in her throat and she forced it down. Getting to her feet, Max made her way out of the bathroom- insisting that she was fine all the way. She wiped frustrated tears from her eyes. There was no time for mourning a girl she never knew. No time for-

"Max?" a lilting voice piped up just before Max walked into the source. Max's head whipped to the side and she looked up to see Rio standing there. Her hair was wrapped into a thick side braid that fell in front of her right shoulder. She was clutching a portfolio to her chest and her D3200 was hanging from a leather strap around her neck. She looked almost bored with the scene. Max squinted at her, trying to figure out how the timeline got so distorted.

Rio looked every bit as if she'd stepped out of a muted photograph. Her face was unblemished save for a small, white scar on her jaw.

"Rio? What are you doing here?" Max asked, confused by the situation. Her mind was reeling with this strange reality where Jefferson was still a teacher and Rio was alive and at Blackwell Academy.

"Mark sent me to make sure you were still breathing. Class is over," Rio informed Max, looking apathetic towards her task. She said Mark's name casually, but Max noticed a small twitch in Rio's features. "You left your things in the classroom."

Rio held an unzipped backpack out towards Max that was stuffed full with her journals. Her other hand held Max's camera. Max hesitated before finally reaching out and taking the items out of Rio's hands. She noticed several faint scars on the girl's wrists and her stomach twisted. What was Rio going through that caused her to make marks that fresh?

Max could still remember seeing Mark knelt before Rio, kissing her and making Rio's face flush. What was he doing to her now, now that he'd seemingly gotten away with his crimes?

"Are you okay?" Max asked, concerned for Rio's wellfare. Rio stepped back and her eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm not the one who ditched out of class. I need to go," Rio answered, turning and walking back towards the hall that led to Jefferson's classroom. Max noticed Jefferson leave his classroom at the end of the hall and meet with Rio. He was smiling as if he'd won the lottery. The way he stood so close to Rio made Max's chest tighten. She lifted her camera and took a picture.


End file.
